Fireworks
by louella
Summary: Dempsey's changed but Makepeace hasn't noticed. Will she ever see that he's not what she thinks he is?
1. Another day at the office

**Chapter 1: another day at the office**

Dempsey sat at his desk, staring down at the scrap of paper in his hand. Written on the paper was a seven-digit number and the name Karen. Karen was a nurse in the hospital where a witness to a recent jewellery robbery was recuperating. The number was where Karen said she could be reached, any time, really, any time at all.

Dempsey hadn't dated in a while. He didn't really think about it much but when someone like Karen made her availability so obvious, he had to admit he was kinda tempted.

He didn't hear Makepeace as she approached him from behind. She nodded at the paper. "Going to call her?"

Without really thinking, Dempsey screwed the paper up into a small ball and tossed it into the trash can. "Not my type."

"Really?" Makepeace's eyes were disbelieving. "I'd have thought she'd be exactly what you're looking for."

Dempsey didn't want to pursue this line of conversation. Instead, he said, casually, "What about you? You seeing anyone?"

Makepeace glanced at him then away, an unreadable look on her face. "There's nothing serious."

It wasn't really the answer Dempsey was looking for. He said, "Well, nothing serious now might become serious later."

Shaking her head, Makepeace said, "I don't think that's very likely at the moment."

"That's what you want though? Something serious?"

Makepeace raised her eyebrows at him. "I wouldn't have thought you'd understand the concept of serious."

"What do you mean? I've done serious."

Makepeace's scepticism would probably have been visible from space. Dempsey affected a wounded expression, but as Harry left to sit at her own desk he started thinking. How come Harry still had that view of him? He opened his mouth but Spikings arrived, started to brief the team on a new job. Dempsey wasn't really listening – Watson and Fry would be leading it, he and Harry were still wrapping up the jewel heist – when his attention was caught by the calendar on his desk. Over half way through June. A bunch of separate thoughts pooled together in his head and as soon as Spikings finished the briefing Dempsey called him over.

"Harry and me, we should've finished up with that jewellery job in the next few days," Dempsey said to Spikings. Harry looked up and nodded when Spikings sent her a questioning look.

"That's right, Sir," she said. "Just one more witness statement to finalise and the paperwork to deal with."

Spikings turned to Dempsey and said, "So?"

"I wanna take some time off. I've hardly had any holiday over the last couple of years. Need a break."

Spikings looked at him closely. "Did you have anything in mind?"

"New York. Now that Coltrane's all tied up, aint nothing stopping me going back. Haven't seen my family in years, the guys from the department, my old buddies."

Spikings nodded. "I see," he said, rubbing his head. "Well, you're quite right that you have a lot of leave outstanding. When were you thinking of going?"

Dempsey waggled his head from side to side, thinking. "The weekend, maybe? Take a couple of weeks off, come back in July?"

Spikings nodded. Makepeace said, "Hold on minute. Just like that? And what about me? Who'll I work with while Dempsey's gone?"

Spikings began, "I think Hargreaves is avail-"

Dempsey interrupted, "Come with me." Both Spikings and Makepeace turned to him, various degrees of surprise on their faces. Dempsey spoke to Harry. "Why not? You said last week that your thing with what's her name had fallen through, right?"

"Jacinta," said Harry. "She broke her leg. We were going to go to Cannes but it'll have to wait now."

"There you go! Come on, it'll be great. I've seen what the English cops do, you can come and see what policing's like in the States. It'd be okay at this end, huh Boss?"

Spikings shook his head. "Harry is also due leave, but what she does with it is nothing to do with me."

Harry's eyebrows were somewhere near her hairline. "I couldn't possibly," she said.

"C'mon Princess. At least think about it."

Spikings said, "You can think about it on your own time, Sergeant. Didn't you say something about a witness statement?"

Harry nodded. She said to Dempsey, "You go ahead, I'll meet you at the car."

oOo

The final witness in the jewellery blag lived about twenty miles out of London and after a tailback on the motorway it took longer than expected to reach him. By the time they'd tracked him down on his allotment, taken down the statement and got him to sign it, there wasn't much of the day left. Dempsey was driving and offered to take her straight to hers, rather than dropping her at the office. She nodded. "Fine, as long as you pick me up in the morning. My car's still at work."

He shrugged. "Sure." To tell the truth, he enjoyed driving Harry around, liked the intimacy of sharing the space with her. They normally chatted easily during their car journeys but today she seemed a little distracted. He sent her a sideways glance as he pulled up at the lights. "Got something on your mind?"

"No," she said quickly, "no, nothing."

There was a pause. "You thought any more about taking a trip to the good ol' U S of A?" His fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel.

"Of course not," she snapped. "What on earth makes you think I would come on holiday with you?"

Dempsey was careful to ensure his face didn't reveal the hurt. Instead, he sighed theatrically and said, "It's not like we'd have to spend every second together. You could go off and do your own thing if you wanna. You'd love New York."

"I'm not coming, Dempsey."

"Shame," he said, sending her a glance. "Don't know what you're missing."

"Oh, I think I do."

Dempsey couldn't quite account for the disappointment coiling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't really expected her to say yes. It'd been a crazy idea, but he'd wanted her to spend some time on his territory, to see him the way the people who loved him saw him. Long shot, to put it mildly. The break didn't hold quite the same appeal without her, but it was true that he owed his family a visit and it would be good to catch up with the guys. Maybe if he went away a while it'd give her the chance to miss him.

The lights changed and he pulled away. They didn't speak much for the rest of the journey, Harry's clipped "thank you for the lift" echoing around his head after she closed the car door and walked up to her house without a backward glance.

oOo

The next few days passed in a blur, with Dempsey booking flights, finishing off paperwork and making furtive transatlantic phone calls while the Boss was out of the room. Harry watched as Dempsey's excitement about his holiday grew. He hadn't asked her to join him again, thank God, so perhaps they'd be able to forget about it and pretend it never happened. Surely he could see that it would be totally inappropriate for them to go on holiday together? What would people think? And more importantly, how on earth would she manage to keep a lid on her complicated feelings if they were together for a fortnight without the distraction of work?

Dempsey was flying on the Friday evening and he came to work that day with his suitcase at the ready. He'd managed to either close off his cases or hand them over to colleagues to deal with while he was away, so he didn't have much to keep him busy on his last day. Harry glanced at the calendar. She absolutely would not count how many days it would be before he was back.

Dempsey's good mood permeated the rest of the team and he offered to buy everyone a drink at the end of the day before he headed to the airport. As the team walked across the road to the pub, Fry took hold of her elbow and said, "Dempsey's glad to be getting home, isn't he?"

Harry's lips curled downwards. "Everyone enjoys a holiday, I suppose, even Dempsey."

"It is a holiday then?"

Harry withdrew her elbow and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Fry looked at the ground, colour rising in his cheeks. "Only, I overheard Dempsey telling Chas that he was in the clear to go back to New York now. Thought maybe he'd be going back for good."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Harry. "Of course he's coming back."

"Right you are," said Fry. "Thought so." He bounced off to rejoin the team, who'd got a few steps ahead of them, leaving Harry to think his words through.

A painful worry began to niggle at her insides. She shook her head. Quickly catching up with Dempsey, she caught his arm and her turned towards her with his most dazzling smile and her mouth dried up. This was all wrong. She said, "I can't make it I'm afraid. Need to get over to Freddy's."

Dempsey's smile faded. "Not even one?"

"Sorry. Not even one."

She turned to go but he held her wrist for a moment. "You gonna miss me?" There was something unreadable in his eyes.

"I'll miss doing two sets of paperwork."

He stared down at her for a moment. "Well, you know where I am if you change your mind," he said softly.

She looked over his shoulder for a moment. "Enjoy your trip," she said brightly, then left the group and headed back towards her car. She didn't see that he watched her until she turned out of sight.


	2. Sunday

**Chapter 2: Sunday**

Harry hooked her handbag over her shoulder and walked across the lobby. As she reached the street the sound of the city hit her hard – like London but denser, louder, not as predictable. She hailed a cab and slid into the back, reading out an address she carried on a slip of paper.

As she travelled downtown and crossed Manhattan Bridge, Harry thought about Spikings and his request-cum-order that she take a week off and chase after her partner. It had only been a couple of days into Dempsey's leave and she'd been mooching around the office, her usual productivity deserting her as all her routines were in pieces. She'd been brooding on Fry's comments. Surely Dempsey would be back? Surely in a few days it'd be back to normal?

She had refused to consider the reasons why she wasn't as keen to get to the office while Dempsey was away. It was surely only because she preferred to work with a partner, but with Dempsey away and Joyce on secondment to another division she was on her own. And if her eyes kept drifting over to Dempsey's empty desk, it was only to thank her lucky stars that she was being left in peace for a couple of weeks.

But then Spikings had called her in to his office, asked her to close the door behind her. "I've been thinking," he'd said. "Might be a good idea for you to pay a visit to the Cowboy in New York."

Harry had swallowed. "Sir?"

"You and he are my best team and I'd like to keep it that way. But now that his little bit of NYPD bother's been dealt with, there's no pressing need for him to come back to London. None that he'll admit to, anyway. So you might want to take a little trip over the pond. Remind him what he'd be missing." Spikings had rubbed his hand over his head. "I've put it in the book. Take the next couple of days to make your arrangements, then don't come in next week. I hope to see you both back after that."

Harry had slid out of his office, her emotions in a whirl. How dare Spikings force her to go on holiday? And to spend it with Dempsey, of all people? She'd thought about fighting it, but Spikings was the Boss and she was accustomed to obeying her superiors. And as she'd booked her flights and a hotel room in Manhattan, she'd been forced to admit to a flicker of anticipation about what the week ahead might hold. She'd always wanted to visit New York, after all, and there was no need for her to spend her whole holiday with the Dempsey family. She would drop by, check in with Dempsey, then leave them to it.

So now here she was, in the back of a yellow taxi, travelling through the streets of a residential Brooklyn neighbourhood. After a journey of around forty minutes she paid the cabbie, adding a generous tip, and got out. The cabbie drove off, leaving Harry alone on a street full of handsome brownstones, some in a better shape than others. She checked the slip of paper again, although Heaven knew she'd memorised it some time ago, and looked at the numbers on the houses. She walked up the steps to the front door of number 495 and rang the bell.

The house was one of the slightly shabbier ones but she could hear sounds of family and laughter from behind the door. She rubbed her hands against her thighs and took a deep breath. After a moment she saw the door begin to open and plastered a bright smile across her face. Suddenly Dempsey was there, standing in the doorway, facing away from her as he shouted a few words over his shoulder to someone in one of the rooms in the rear of the house. He turned towards her then and her breath caught at the expression on his face. "Surprise," she said.

oOo

"Harry!" Dempsey was stunned, his heart thumping hard at the sight of her. "What – why? Is everything OK?"

Harry's smile faltered slightly. "It's fine. A mission from Spikings." Dempsey was staring at her. After a moment she said, "Can I come in?"

He blinked and gave his head a small shake. "What? Yeah, sure, come through." He stood back and waved her ahead of him, directing her towards the kitchen at the back of the house. As he followed her he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, his thoughts scrambling.

Harry pushed open the door to the kitchen, pausing at the doorway. The sound of voices stopped at the sight of her. Dempsey edged awkwardly around her, avoiding brushing against her, catching the enquiring looks from five pairs of eyes. "Hey, guys," he said. "This is Harry."

"Oh, hi!" said a smiling thirty-something woman who had a small child pressed against her legs. "So you're Harry. Makes sense."

"Can it, Gem," said Dempsey, already worried about what might come out in the next few minutes. He turned to Harry. "My little sister, Gemma." He waved towards the man standing alongside her. "Her husband Bobby. Their daughter there is Amy."

Harry nodded towards them, murmuring her hellos. Dempsey continued, looking at a couple leaning against the kitchen counter. "This is my Aunt Betty and Uncle Herb." He turned towards a comfortable-looking woman standing by the stove and reached out to squeeze her waist. "And this is my Ma."

Harry said, "Pleased to meet you, Mrs Dempsey."

The woman hustled forwards, taking hold of Harry's hand. "It's Rosa. I'm so delighted to see you." She slanted a look at her son. "Why didn't you tell me we were expecting visitors? I'd have got the place a bit straighter. What must she think of us?"

"Please don't worry on my account," said Harry.

"Nonsense," said Rosa. "When did you land? You must be exhausted. Are you over your jetlag? Took Jimmy a couple of days to get back to normal, mind you he never did like getting up in the morning. Can I get you a drink? A coffee or something stronger, maybe a beer?"

Dempsey smiled at the slightly anxious look on Harry's face as she tried to work out which question to answer first. "Calm down, Ma," he said. "Harry needs to breathe."

Rosa sent a wounded look in her son's direction. "Sure she needs to breathe but she probably needs a drink too, aint that right Harry?"

Harry nodded. "A coffee would be lovely, please, if it's not too much trouble."

Aunt Betty smiled in Harry's direction. "Don't you talk nice," she said. She turned towards Dempsey with a sly grin. "Can see why it's taken you so long to come back, Jimmy."

Dempsey ran a hand through his hair. "I told you," he said. "There was a work thing."

"Sure, Jimmy. And you work with Harry, aint that right?"

"Yes, we're colleagues," said Harry, just as Dempsey said, "We're friends from work." Dempsey glared at Bobby, who was holding back a grin. He loved his family but this wasn't funny.

Aunt Betty sniffed. "Long way for a colleague to come," she said.

Little Amy let go of her mum's leg and took a step towards Harry. Looking up at her with huge brown eyes, she said, "Uncle Jimmy says you're a princess. Are you really a princess?"

Harry looked stumped and Gemma could see that Dempsey was close to blowing. She took the mug of coffee from her mother's hands and passed it to Harry. "There's a yard out back," she said. "Jimmy'll show it to you." She opened the door at the rear of the kitchen and Harry slipped through it gratefully, walking down the outside steps towards a small metal table and a pair of chairs. Dempsey followed, closing the kitchen door firmly behind him as he went.

They sat at the table, not quite facing each other, Harry holding the coffee mug at her lips with two hands. Dempsey looked at her. Now she was in front of him he couldn't deny how much he'd missed seeing her face every day. "So," he said.

Harry took a sip of coffee and placed her mug on the table between them. "So," she replied.

Dempsey let out a ripple of quiet laughter. "A mission from Spikings, you said."

"Ah, yes."

"Better not be telling me I need to get back. Barely half way through my break here."

"Not exactly." Harry's gaze skidded around the yard. "He just wanted me to check you'll be coming back at the end."

That floored Dempsey for a moment. "You came all the way here just to remind me to come home again?"

Harry shrugged. "You know what he's like. Doesn't want to break up a winning team."

A feeling of disappointment was settling in Dempsey's stomach. He'd imagined for a moment that Harry had come to visit because she was missing him as much as he'd been missing her. Was a bit of a blow to realise that she was just following Spikings' orders. It hadn't crossed his mind not to go back to London at the end of his vacation, but there was no need to tell Harry that. He said, "I aint planning to think about work right now. And you're off the clock too, so I don't want to hear Spikings' name pass your lips while you're here."

Harry looked at him evenly. "I can't make any promises."

Shrugging, Dempsey said, "And I can't promise to answer your questions." He looked around her for a moment. "Where's your case?"

"Oh, it's at the hotel. I arrived yesterday, spent the day getting my body clock back into line."

"You've been here a day and you only just showed up?"

"I'm here for a week, still. No need to rush."

"Jeez, you're infuriating." He stretched out his legs and squinted at her. "Which hotel, anyway."

"The Plaza on 44th Street. It's near Grand Central."

Dempsey's eyebrows rose as he let out a low whistle. "Nothing but the best, huh? But you'll have to check out. Ma'll kill me if you don't stay here." There was something unsettling about the idea of her staying in his childhood home, but he wanted her near, whatever the reason.

"No, Dempsey." She shook her head. "I wouldn't want to impose myself. This is your holiday too, you should have the chance to spend time with your family without me hanging around."

"You would expect me to stay with you if it was the other way around."

"But I wouldn't be so rude as to insist on it."

Dempsey puffed out a breath. "But you'll stay for dinner."

"Are you cooking?"

"No, Ma's the chef. You won't regret it."

"In that case yes, it would be a pleasure."

oOo

They sat outside for another hour or so. Gemma brought out a beer for each of them, smiling at Harry, asking polite questions about how long she was over and what she thought of the city. When she looked as though she might be settling in Dempsey told her to take a hike and to let their mother know there'd be an extra mouth for dinner.

They chatted easily about how Dempsey had spent his week, the friends he'd seen and the changes he'd noticed since he'd last been here. He could stop himself touching her, just about, but he couldn't stop looking at her. He'd enjoyed his week in New York. There'd even been times, in the bar, perhaps, or around his mother's dinner table, when he hadn't been thinking about her. But mostly she'd occupied his thoughts to the exclusion of everything else and he still couldn't quite believe she was sitting opposite him now.

She looked happy, he thought, as she lifted the bottle of beer to her lips. He was smiling at her – couldn't help himself – and she looked at him questioningly but he was rescued by his sister calling that dinner was ready. Harry looked down at herself and said, "I'm not really dressed for it. I hope your family won't mind."

He cast his eyes over her. She was in a soft summer dress and casual shoes, an off-duty look that made his blood pump faster. "You'll do fine," he said gruffly, watching as she looked to the ground, a pink glow rising in her cheeks.

oOo

Harry followed Dempsey up the stairs and back through the kitchen. He led her into a room in the middle of the house containing a large table with a collection of mis-matched dining chairs arranged around it. There was a dresser along one wall filled haphazardly with photos, knick-knacks and souvenirs. There room was long and narrow and she squeezed around the table until she reached the chair Dempsey waved her into. She found herself sitting between Gemma and Dempsey, with Bobby and Amy's high chair at one end of the table and Dempsey's mother at the other, near the door. Aunt Betty and Uncle Herb were opposite.

In the centre of the table were various large dishes filled with vegetables and a casserole pot with a lid. Plates were handed up the table and then people began helping themselves, spooning beef casserole and mash and veg onto their plates, continuing the conversations they'd begun before they sat down. Harry felt a little overwhelmed, unused to the noise and the informality, and Dempsey watched as she sat with an empty plate in front of her.

"What's the matter?" he asked her. "Not hungry?"

Harry pulled herself together and said, "Ravenous, actually. Is it OK if I help myself?"

She thought Dempsey looked a little confused. "Sure," he said. "We aint go no Abbot here."

"No, of course not," she muttered, reaching out for a spoon. The food looked delicious and she really was hungry, having not eaten much yesterday after her flight. As she picked up her knife and fork, Gemma turned towards her and asked her about her work with Dempsey in London.

"We're police officers," she said. "It's not all that different from police work in America, I suspect. Although your brother's approach has sometimes raised a few eyebrows."

Gemma laughed. "I bet. He raised a few eyebrows over here as well."

"Cut it out," said Dempsey, leaning across Harry to reach a dish of greens. He turned towards Harry, saying, "My little sis. Don't believe a word she says."

"No way!" said Gemma, reaching behind Harry to flick at Dempsey's ear. "He's just sore coz I'm the only female he knows who can resist his fatal charms."

Harry sent an uncertain smile in Gemma's direction. Dempsey said, "She's only pretending she can resist me." He leaned closer to Harry. "You're the only woman who actually does."

Harry felt the heat rising up her throat and looked down at her plate for a moment. She missed the speculative look Gemma sent her brother and the innocent one he sent back.

The babble of voices quietened down for a moment as people began to eat. Rosa looked across at Harry and said, "Have you been to New York before, sweetheart?"

Shaking her head, Harry said, "No, but I've always wanted to. Such an exciting place."

"It can be, but then I guess it's not so different from London, maybe?"

Dempsey broke in, saying, "Harry didn't always live in London, Ma. She grew up in the country. In a castle."

Dempsey winced a little as Harry's toe connected with his shin. Rosa and Aunt Betty looked at Harry with interest. "A castle?" said Aunt Betty. "A real castle, like the Queen?"

"No, not a real castle. More like a manor house."

"As big as a castle," said Dempsey, unhelpfully.

Gemma's face was openly curious. "That sounds amazing," she said. "Your childhood must have been fantastic."

"Well, it had its moments," Harry replied. "It was lovely to have so much space. We had a stable so I could keep a pony."

Gemma's mouth formed into an 'O'. Even Amy looked interested. "But you know," continued Harry, "with it being so far into the country, there were very few friends nearby."

Gemma raised an eyebrow. "I might have traded some of my friends for a pony when I was a kid."

Harry laughed. "I suppose, if you're always surrounded by so many people, you might long for a little open space."

Rosa leaned towards Harry. "Didn't you have a lot of family to fill up your manor house?"

"Ma," said Dempsey, but Harry put her hand on his arm.

"It's fine," she said quietly, then said more clearly, "My mother died while I was young and neither she nor my father had large families. When we entertained relatives it was always very formal. No one ever just dropped in."

Harry was trying hard to keep the wistfulness off her face but when she saw Gemma's sympathetic look she thought she'd probably failed. Rose said, "I'm sorry about your mother, honey. That must have been tough for you."

"Thank you," said Harry, picking at the tablecloth with her fingers. "But we made the best of it."

Dempsey called across to his mother, "You hear anything from Tommy today?"

Rosa's gaze shifted from Harry to her son. "He was supposed to call this morning but do you think he did? Of course he didn't. Still, at least he hasn't been living on the other side of the Atlantic for three years, so I guess I should be grateful for that, huh, Jimmy?"

Dempsey turned to Harry. "You remember I told you about Tommy? He's my brother, the kid in the middle. Lives in Queens."

"May as well be London, the amount of time he visits," said Rosa, sniffing. She looked about to launch into a well-rehearsed complaint when the phone rang. Dempsey went into the hall to answer it, standing at the open door frame with the receiver in one hand and the phone in the other. Harry stared for a moment, watching as Dempsey greeted his brother and cast his smiling gaze around his family. He leaned in the door frame, his body rangy and lean, looking casual and comfortable and happy, and Harry swallowed.

"Yeah," he said into the phone, "Ma thought you'd forgotten her number as you hadn't called it since yesterday." He smiled at his mother as he listened to whatever his brother was saying to him.

Gemma leaned into Harry. "Tommy hasn't been the same since Jimmy left," she said. "They were close, growing up. Tommy worshipped Jim."

Harry nodded. Dempsey had spoken often of Tommy, the affection in his voice clear. She wasn't surprised that Tommy looked up to his older brother. She looked at Dempsey as he turned slightly away from the table, talking a little quieter into to receiver. "Can't tonight," he said. There was a pause, then, "I know I said I would, but something's come up. Need to take a friend somewhere."

Harry was conscious that Dempsey's whole family was listening closely to his conversation. "No, not that sort of friend," he said. "It's Harry. From England." Dempsey was nodding along, rolling his eyes. "Yes that Harry. Need to take her back to her hotel."

Harry was aware of Gemma's eyes on her. She said quietly to her, "It's fine, I can easily get a taxi if Dempsey wants to go out with his brother."

Gemma smiled. "I'm sure you could but Tommy can wait. Jim'll want to see you back."

Harry heard Dempsey replace the receiver and put the phone back on the hall table. She busied herself with her meal as Dempsey came back to his seat. He said to his mother, "Tom's coming round tomorrow after work. Happy now?" His hand squeezed this mother's shoulder as he passed and she looked up at him and smiled.

"The two of you'll be the death of me," she said.

"You wouldn't have us any other way," Dempsey said, settling himself back alongside Harry. He caught her eye and she smiled at him, and at his mother who was continuing her good-natured grumbling at Dempsey's other side.

"You don't need to take me back, Dempsey," she said. "I've already intruded on your evening enough."

Dempsey looked at his sister. "Did I mention she was crazy?" he said to Gemma, nodding at Harry. Looking back at Harry he said, "I'm taking you back. No arguing."

Harry recognised his tone and knew when she was beat. "OK," she said quietly, quashing the small flutter that brushed through her stomach at the thought of Dempsey seeing her back to her hotel room.

The meal continued, accompanied by the rise and fall of conversation and laughter, with Gemma, Rosa and Aunt Betty making concerted efforts to include Harry in the teasing and the anecdotes, many of which seemed to involve Dempsey as the punchline to the joke. Harry watched Dempsey as he soaked up the abuse, laughing along with his family, relaxed and open. There wasn't a hint of irritation from him at the endless volley of verbal assaults. He seemed to be thriving on the attention and warmth from the people around the table.

As the meal concluded Uncle Herb cleared up the dishes and took them through to the kitchen. Rosa served bowls of ice cream to those who wanted desert. Harry politely declined, and as she sat back she felt Dempsey's arm as he'd stretched it out along the back of her chair. A couple of his fingers touched lightly on her shoulder, burning through the thin fabric of her dress, and she was caught for a moment between wanting to lean in closer and to pull away. Fortunately before she had to make a decision Dempsey removed his arm and turned towards her.

"You wanna get a drink before you head back? There's a place on the corner we often go to."

Harry smiled. "OK, why not."

"Great," he said. "Get your bag, we'll make a move."

"Already?" Harry was surprised. Amy was still eating her ice cream.

"Yeah. It's a Sunday, it'll close early. It's just a neighbourhood place, you know."

"Well, OK." Harry didn't want to seem rude, leaving before the meal was complete, but no one took it amiss when Dempsey stood and told the table they were heading off.

"Good idea," said Gemma, a sparkle in her eye. "I'll come too. You don't mind do you Bobby?"

Bobby looked up at his wife and something unspoken seemed to pass between them. "Sure, honey. I'll get Amy back and see you at home later." Gemma dropped quick kisses on her husband and her daughter then followed Dempsey and Harry into the hall. Harry noticed Dempsey frowning at his sister but Gemma just grinned and shrugged and followed him out.

The bar was old-fashioned and not too full. Dempsey took their orders and headed to the bar, slightly anxious about leaving Harry alone with his sister in the booth. He hadn't really told Gemma anything incriminating. He'd barely admitted his incriminating thoughts to himself. But Gemma could piece together bits of a puzzle better than most of the detectives he knew and he'd probably talked about Harry more than he should've done this last week. Gem would work it out and he couldn't trust her not to spill the beans.

He picked up the beers and the vodka and tonic and took them over to the booth. Gemma and Harry were sat on one side of the table so he slid onto the bench seat opposite them, handing out the drinks and watching carefully for any signs of mischief from his sister. Gemma seemed to be telling Harry the story about him skipping school as a kid and their mother coming home and finding him and his friend Donny playing with water pistols in the yard. Dempsey grinned.

"Think that might've been when I decided to become a cop," he said. "I wanted a job that would let me play with guns for real."

"She wasn't happy with you," said Gemma.

"She tanned my hide so hard I couldn't sit for a week." Dempsey smiled fondly at the memory, then laughed as he took in Harry's shocked expression. "Hey, that's what it was like growing up around here. Lots of rules but plenty of fun too."

Gemma looked between Harry and Dempsey. "I guess you two don't have that much in common, huh? Must make it lively at work."

"What can I say?" shrugged Dempsey. "She's annoying as hell but I learned to live with her."

"Excuse me," said Harry in that haughty way that always got him. "He's rude and unprincipled and takes an extremely lax view of the rules. He never does his paperwork and his desk resembles a bomb site."

Gemma laughed and Dempsey bit into a potato chip. "Yeah, but other than that you love me."

Gemma tipped her head to one side, looking straight at Dempsey. "They do say that opposites attract."

"And they also say that little sisters talk shit." Dempsey risked a glance at Harry but she was looking at the table, her finger tapping against her glass.

Gemma waved her hand breezily in front of Dempsey's face and turned towards Harry. "He difficult to work with then?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Must drive you crazy, putting up with all his crap."

"I've had to develop an enhanced sense of patience."

"Hey!" said Dempsey. "I am here."

Gemma turned to her brother. "I aint talking to you, bozo. Wanna find out a bit more about this girl who can apparently resist the fabled Jimmy Dempsey charm."

"It's not so hard to resist, really," said Harry, her eyes cool and clear on Dempsey. "By the time you've seen him working on his tenth or eleventh conquest the charm starts to wear quite thin."

Gemma looked at Dempsey, aghast. "You do that in front of her?" she said. "You crazy?"

Dempsey shrugged. "She don't mind. She's one of the guys."

Harry said to Gemma, "And from Dempsey, that's actually a compliment."

"Jeez, man," she said, pointing from Dempsey to Harry and back again. "You two."

Dempsey noticed a small frown working its way between Harry's brows. She opened her mouth but he jumped in before she could speak. "You finished, Harry?"

Harry tipped the last of the vodka and tonic into her mouth then nodded. "Time to make a move?"

Dempsey slid out of the booth and gestured for Gemma and Harry to come too. He looked at his sister. "You gonna be alright to get home? You want I should call you a cab?"

"I'll be fine," she said. "It's still light, and it's only a couple of blocks. The walk'll do me good."

"You sure?"

Gemma rolled her eyes. "Sure I'm sure." She turned to Harry and pulled her close enough to kiss her cheek. "He worries about me. He's a good person," she said. "Was lovely to meet you, finally. Hope to see you again soon." She planted a kiss on her brother's cheek and headed off home.

Dempsey felt a moment's awkwardness as he and Harry stood together by the booth. "OK," he said, pulling himself together. "Let's hit the road." He guided her out of the bar and to the corner of the street where they were more likely to find a taxi.

It didn't take long to catch a cab and soon they were making the trip back to Manhattan. The sun was heading towards the horizon, bathing the city in a golden glow, and Dempsey watched Harry as she stared through the window, a smile breaking across face.

Too soon, the cabbie pulled up outside Harry's hotel. He thought for a moment about asking the driver to wait, then decided against. He paid the fare as Harry got out then walked with her across the hotel lobby.

"Which floor you on?"

"Ten. By which I mean eleven in American."

Dempsey laughed. "Took me years to work out that you Brits don't count the ground floor. All the time I wasted trying to track down addresses." He walked with her to the lift and pressed the call button.

Harry turned to him. "You don't have to come up," she said. "If you want to get back to your family."

"I'm coming up," he said quietly, and followed her into the lift. He pressed the button for her floor and a moment later she was guiding him along the corridor to her room.

She turned the key in her door and he followed her in. He'd done this sort of thing countless times before, gone back to a date's place, he knew all the moves. But this wasn't a date and he didn't have any moves to put on Harry. He felt awkward suddenly as he saw the bed with some sort of nightwear lying upon it, Harry's things arranged on a dresser under a mirror. He walked across to the window and looked out.

"Great view," he said, truthfully. She joined him, her gaze sweeping across the city, the sunset glinting off windows and casting long shadows over the panorama in front of them.

"It is," she said. "Do you miss it?"

He thought for a moment. "Sometimes," he said. He glanced at her. "But there are good views in London too." He wondered, fleetingly, what would happen if he brushed a kiss across her lips right now, here in this bedroom. He reckoned he'd get a slap around the face and then she would refuse to see him again until they were both back in London. He pushed the thought aside and said, "What are your plans for the week?"

She shrugged. "Don't really have any. I'd like to do some of the tourist things, of course, but other than that…"

"Why don't I pick you up tomorrow morning? I think I can still find my way around. Can show you the highlights."

"My very own Galactica?" She smiled up at him and he blinked, then laughed.

"Can't promise I'll be as good as Galactica," he said, "but I know a few shortcuts. See you at ten?"

"Don't you want to spend the day with your family?"

"Nah. They'll mostly be back at work in the daytime, and Ma'll be pleased to get me out from under her feet."

"OK, well in that case, yes please. I'd love you to show me round New York. I'll see you in the lobby downstairs."

He smiled. "OK then."

"OK."

Was that a hint of nervousness coming from her? He felt a little anxious himself. He pushed his hands through his hair and stood back. "So I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too." He pushed up his sleeves and looked at her. "Good night, then."

She had a patient expression on her face, standing by the window with her hands on her hips. Not nervous then. "Good night Dempsey," she said. "See you tomorrow."

"Right, yeah." He took one last look at her before he walked over the to the door to let himself out. Tomorrow would be a good day.


	3. Monday

**AN: Thank you so much for the reviews for the first two chapters. I hope you like this one - please let me know, feedback is always welcome :)**

**Chapter 3: Monday**

Dempsey took the subway up to Harry's hotel. His Ma had fussed over him as he was leaving, checking he was wearing good shoes and suggesting he comb his hair. "I'm just gonna be walking around the town all day," he'd said, but she'd shaken her head at him.

"A girl like Harry, you need to look good for. You don't want to be turning up looking like you haven't made an effort."

Shooing her away, Dempsey had said, "Harry won't care what I look like. It aint like that."

His Ma had looked at him like he'd grown another head. "What do you mean, it aint like that? What is it like then? You ask me, you don't fly half way round the world to visit someone it aint like that for."

"No one is asking you, Ma. Harry and me, we just work together. Nothing else."

His mother had opened the door for him, watching closely as he'd walked through. "But you want there to be something else though, don't you son?"

"Just leave it, Ma," he'd said as he walked down the steps to the sidewalk. "It aint happening." But his mother's words had stayed with him as he'd travelled up to the city.

He pushed through the hotel's revolving doors and caught a glimpse of Harry waiting in an overstuffed armchair in the lobby. She was reading a newspaper, her head bent down, looking as groomed and elegant as always. He watched for a moment then smoothed down his hair and straightened his collar before wandering over to her.

"Morning, Princess," he said, and was rewarded by a beaming smile as Harry looked up and saw him.

"Hello," she said, getting to her feet and lifting her bag onto her shoulder. "What's the plan?"

oOo

Harry was glad she'd worn her flat shoes. They'd started near her hotel and visited the New York Public Library then Grand Central station, admiring the landmark architecture. They'd walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and taken the East River ferry back to Manhattan, getting a late lunch near Wall Street. They'd taken the ferry across to Staten Island so that Harry could get a good view of the Statue of Liberty and by the time they got back to Manhattan it was nearing the end of the working day.

"Thank you for showing me the sights," she said, as they wandered through Battery Park. "It's been fascinating." She put her arm through his and he looked down at her, smiling.

"Been fun to do the tour," he said. "I forgot how much I love the old place. Best city in the world."

Harry sent him a look. "Second best."

He laughed and pulled his arm free, looping it around her shoulders. "That's coz you aint seen Central Park yet, or the modern art museum, or the shops on Fifth Avenue."

"I doubt they'll beat Hyde Park or the National Gallery or Harrods."

"I wouldn't bet on that." He laughed as Harry punched him gently in the ribs.

They walked for a moment longer then paused by some railings, staring over the river towards the Statue of Liberty and New Jersey in the distance. Harry felt the heavy warmth of Dempsey's arm around her and breathed in, filling her nose with the familiar scent of his aftershave. Dangerous. She said, "You'd better point me in the direction of my hotel. You'll need to get back to yours if your brother is going to be there."

She could sense him looking down at her. "You got any plans? For tonight?"

Harry shook her head. "Well, no, not really. I thought I'd probably take dinner in the hotel restaurant and then go for a short walk around, see the place at night."

"Come back with me."

Harry's heart started to trip a little faster. "I couldn't intrude on your time with your family."

"Will you quit with that?" He sounded almost exasperated. "I told you, you aint intruding if I want you there."

"And do you?" said Harry. "Want me there?"

"I just asked you, didn't I?" Dempsey's voice was low and gruff. It sent an illicit thrill through her.

"And you're sure they won't mind?"

"Jeez, Harry. Why would they mind?" He dropped his arm from around her shoulder and stood back. "So you coming or what?"

Harry rolled her eyes. "With such a charming invitation, how could I refuse?"

oOo

They strolled together from the subway station to his Ma's house, chatting and laughing as they went. Dempsey pointed out places where his friends had lived as kids and where they'd got into trouble with their games. They reached home and he let them in, shouting hello as they arrived.

They went through to the kitchen, greeting Rosa, and Dempsey offered to get Harry a drink. "We aint got any tea I'm afraid. Leastways, nothing you'd call tea," he said, eyeing the jar of iced tea granules doubtfully.

"Coffee's fine. Perfect in fact." Rosa was stirring dishes on the stove and launched into a landslide of questions about their day. Dempsey didn't much fancy the interrogation. He took Harry's shoulders and steered her out of the kitchen, pointing her towards the family room in the front of the house.

"Take a seat in there," he said. "I'll bring the coffee through in a minute."

He busied himself with the coffee and did his best to fend off his mother's questions. As he was adding milk he heard a key in the door. "That'll be your brother," said Rosa, lifting the lid off a pan. Dempsey grinned and poured another cup.

He walked into the front room and saw Tommy sitting on the couch alongside Harry. He handed them each a mug. "Good to see you, bud," he said, taking a seat opposite them. "You met Harry then?"

"Sure have," said Tommy, looking at Harry and raising his mug in her direction. "I'm looking forward to her spilling all your London secrets."

Harry raised an eyebrow in Tom's direction. "I doubt there's anything I can tell you that you don't know already."

Tom stared back. "Your accent's something else," he said. "Does everyone in England sound like you?"

Harry smiled and Dempsey frowned. "Nah," he said. "No one else in England sounds as annoying as Harry."

Harry turned her attention back to Dempsey. "Very funny," she said, her body angled towards Tommy's, her hand flat on the seat between them, close to Tommy's thigh.

Tommy turned his head in her direction, one arm resting along the back of the couch behind Harry, and he smiled easily at her, nodding his head in Dempsey's direction. "He's a real wise guy, huh."

"Yes, he keeps us in stiches," Harry deadpanned, Tommy's face breaking into a grin as he looked at her. She brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear as she smiled back.

Dempsey coughed. "You got any plans tonight, Tom?"

Tommy looked at him. "Ma said she'd make meatballs." He said to Harry, "Can't beat Ma's meatballs."

"Quit trying to butter up Ma, she aint here to appreciate it," said Dempsey, frowning. "I meant, after dinner. You wanna go out for a beer?"

Tommy looked at Harry. "You coming?"

Harry caught Dempsey's eye, who shrugged. "More the merrier."

"OK, then, yes. A beer," she said.

Tommy said, "Great," and raised his mug to his lips as a silent salute to her.

oOo

They didn't go to the neighbourhood bar this time. Dempsey wanted to go somewhere a bit livelier, where Harry could let her hair down a little, so they headed towards downtown Brooklyn. He chose a place that did cocktails and played rock and roll, one where the after-work crowd would be buzzing even on a Monday night.

They found an empty table and slid into seats, Dempsey hoiking a cocktail menu from another table on the way and passing it to Harry. "What do you fancy?" he asked as she scanned through the drinks.

"Hmm… maybe a Between the Sheets?"

Tommy grinned at her. "Why not go the whole hog and get a Screaming Orgasm?"

Harry leant her chin on her hand and looked at him coolly. "I'm saving that for later."

Tommy burst out laughing and Dempsey spluttered. He looked at his brother. "You're a bad influence on her."

"On the contrary," said Harry. "He may be just what I need."

Tommy looked at his brother, grinning. "I love her," he said. "What you having?"

Dempsey shook his head. "Just a beer. Don't need any fruit in my drink."

"That's the problem with Jimmy," Tom said to Harry. "No sense of adventure."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Most of the time I'd prefer it if he had less sense of adventure, to be honest."

Dempsey rolled his eyes and scowled at his brother. "A man could die of thirst here."

"OK, OK," said Tommy, standing up. "Harry, come give me a hand."

Dempsey put his arm out in an instinctive gesture to stop her going but it was too late, she was already following Tom to the bar. He watched them as they stood together at the counter, waiting to catch the bartender's attention. Tommy was chatting to her and she had her head angled upwards to hear him over the sound of the music. They looked good together. His brother was a little shorter than Dempsey, a little broader in the shoulder, a slightly more muscular physique. His hair was dirty blonde and thick, cut fashionably long, and his eyes sparkled down at Harry. Dempsey loved his brother without reservation but watching him smoothing his way around Harry was harder than he wanted to admit.

He watched as Tommy passed Harry her drink then picked up a couple of bottles of beer. They wandered back to the table, still chatting, Harry apparently filling Tom in on their day of sight-seeing. Dempsey finished half the bottle in one slug, willing himself to relax.

The cocktail seemed to loosen Harry a little, and she held up her end of the conversation as the brothers ribbed each other and gently teased her. Dempsey made a determined effort to treat Harry like he would Gemma and it seemed to be paying dividends as she responded in kind, treating him to the full force of her mocking, affectionate rejoinders.

Dempsey picked up another round of drinks, threading his way back to their table through the growing crowd of people. Harry and Tom were closer together now, speaking loudly as the volume around them increased. Harry seemed bright, happy, and as Dempsey offered her the drink she sent him a dazzling smile.

"Thank you," she said, "will you look after it while I freshen up?" She stood from her chair and walked off in the direction of the bathroom. Both Dempsey and Tom stared after her as she went.

"Wow," said Tommy. "You work with her? Like, every day?"

"Yep."

"She's a knockout."

"She's a pain in the ass."

"I'm amazed you ever get anything done."

Dempsey paused for a moment. "You kinda get used to it."

Tommy sent a sceptical glance at Dempsey. "You're telling me you're used to it?" Dempsey shrugged and Tommy continued, "So you and she, you're not… together?"

"Nope."

"So it's fine for me to…" Tommy pointed his finger back and forth between himself and Harry's empty chair.

This was where, Dempsey knew, he was supposed to say sure, fine, whatever, good luck to you. He tried to get those words past his lips but they wouldn't come. Tommy stared at his brother for a moment, then a grin broke out on his face. "Don't worry, dude," he said. "I'm just kidding you. I aint gonna tread on your toes."

"Hey, you're both free agents," Dempsey muttered, but Tommy shook his head, laughing.

"No way, man," he said. "Never seen you like you are with her. The player played, huh? Never thought I'd see it."

Dempsey shook his head but Harry was back and there wasn't time to issue any further denials. Not that Tommy would've believed them anyway.

Harry sat back down and lifted her cocktail towards the brothers. "Cheers," she said, with a grin that encompassed them both, and they picked up their earlier discussion about the differences between New York and London. Tommy kept the conversational ball rolling and Dempsey allowed himself to enjoy the company of Harry and his brother, able for a while to keep a lid on the unnamed feelings that bubbled beneath.

As the evening wore on, the volume of the music grew louder and a few couples began dancing together in the spaces between the tables. Tommy got another round in and dragged Harry to her feet, laughing with her as they attempted an impromptu jive in a tiny piece of floorspace.

Dempsey chugged his beer and watched them, a smile tugging at his mouth at the sight of Harry loosening up and letting go. At the end of the track Tommy whispered something in Harry's ear then leaned down to Dempsey. "Think I saw someone I recognise," he said. "Gonna go say hi. Your turn to sweep this lady off her feet." He smiled at them both, pushing Harry gently in Dempsey's direction, then wandered off into the crowd of people near the bar, waving a goodbye as he left.

Harry looked down at him, an eyebrow raised, a hand held out. "Well?"

He took her hand in his and stood up alongside her. The new track was slower and he held her hand against his shoulder, his other hand sliding around her waist, pulling her close up against him as they swayed in time with the music.

His lips were near her temple, his nose against her hair. Her scent was familiar to him now, fresh and floral, and he was sorely tempted to brush his lips against her skin. Her body was warm and supple in his arms, her fingers curling into his palm, her arm soft around the back of his neck, and his skin flamed where they touched. Recognising the danger, he withdrew slightly, pulling a goofy face to mask his tension, twirling her around under his arm and catching her with a grin.

The song ended and they stood together, a little out of breath, letting their arms fall awkwardly back by their sides. Harry reached down to their table and picked up her drink, finishing the last of it in one swallow.

Dempsey said, "Time to head back?"

Harry nodded. "Can you see Tommy? We ought to say goodbye."

"Think he's made a move. I'll catch up with him tomorrow."

"Shame," said Harry. "Never did get that Screaming Orgasm."

"Harry."

"Oh well," she said. "Maybe I'll have one on my own when I get back."

"Jesus, Harry. You been replaced with a lookalike or something?" It suddenly felt hot in the bar.

"What's the matter, Dempsey?" said Harry innocently. "I thought you wanted me to warm up a little?"

"Warm up, sure. Not burn the place down."

She grinned at him as she walked towards the door. "I'm on holiday," she said, throwing a smile over her shoulder. Dempsey ran his hand through his hair as he followed. He's have to sit on his hands on the way back.

He called a cab and ushered her in, giving the driver the address of her hotel. She looked out of the window as they drove towards Manhattan, crossing the bridge, the city silhouette illuminated against the dark sky. "It's beautiful at night," she said.

Dempsey looked at her. "Yeah," he said. "It is."

She turned to him and grinned. "Your family have been lovely," she said. "Your brother's great."

Dempsey ignored the small twist in his stomach. "He's OK I guess," he said. "He liked you."

"I'm very likeable."

Dempsey clasped his hands in front of him. "Gonna plead the Fifth on that," he said.

"Worried you might incriminate yourself?"

Their eyes caught for a moment. Dempsey took a breath and looked away, tapping a finger on his knee. "Listen, I'm gonna be busy tomorrow," he said. "Me and Tommy and Gemma, we're taking Ma up to see her Uncle Jake. He's in a nursing home out the other side of White Plains."

"That sounds nice," said Harry unconvincingly.

"Nah. He won't recognise us. Ma goes out of a sense of duty and we agreed this time we'd all go too, moral support, you know."

"Family is important, though," said Harry. There was an air of wistfulness in her comment and he turned towards her, resisting the urge to squeeze her hand.

"You got any plans for tomorrow?" he said instead.

"Thought I'd check out some of New York's famous culture. I've heard the Museum of Modern Art is good."

Dempsey smiled. "Not open at night, though."

"No," said Harry, slowly. "I'll be free after dinner."

"I'm going out with the guys from the department. Come along. It'll be fun."

Harry looked at him. "Won't I stick out somewhat?"

"It'll be fine. The other guys'll be bringing their girls along too." Slightly too late, he realised what he'd said. "You know what I mean. There'll be a good mix."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Harry looked out of the window as the taxi pulled up outside her hotel. Dempsey reached for the door handle but she leaned over him and put her hand on his arm.

"No need to come up," she said. He turned towards her and felt her lips press briefly on his cheek. He blinked as she pulled away, smiling at him. She was out of the cab before he could speak. "Night Dempsey," she said through the window. "Pick me up here tomorrow? Eight o'clock OK?"

Dempsey nodded. She gave a small wave and turned to go into the hotel.


	4. Tuesday

**AN: Thank you again for the reviews, they really are appreciated. Hope you're still enjoying this :)**

**Chapter 4: Tuesday**

Harry had to admit it. After a day spent looking round the modern art museum and browsing the galleries nearby and along Madison Avenue, she couldn't deny that New York's art scene might be very nearly as good as London's.

She'd enjoyed her day, taking lunch in the museum café and an afternoon coffee at a kiosk in Central Park. Every now and then she found a smile working its way across her face, prompted by an unbidden memory of the night before. She would wipe it away with a scowl, unwilling to dwell too closely on the reason for the lightness of her mood, but the smile seemed to return regardless.

She arrived back at her hotel with aching feet and a rumbling tummy. The hotel restaurant offered a good early dinner, which she ate with one hand while she held her book open with the other. Feeling refreshed, and a little fluttery about the evening ahead, she went up to her room.

A quick shower was called for, which turned into a slightly longer one as she decided to deal with a bit of stubble and to scrub her elbows and knees with her exfoliating mitt. The hotel hairdryer wasn't really up to scratch so she piled her hair into a messy bun and put on her make-up. Her favourite body lotion was smoothed into legs and arms, shoulders and cleavage, and she was ready for the next phase.

What to wear? Her wardrobe didn't offer too many options. She'd bought a couple of smarter dresses but they didn't feel right. A night out with a group of Dempsey's police department friends was unlikely to be held in a cocktail bar. There was one potential dress, though, and she pulled it off the hanger. It was cut above the knee in a casual shape and was made from a shimmering white fabric. She usually dressed it up with heels and jewellery and her narrow silver belt but tonight it would work with her denim jacket and flat sandals.

She checked her watch. Twenty to eight. She sat on the edge of her bed and picked up her book but gave up after she realised she'd read the same paragraph four times. She rolled her eyes and closed the book. A drink instead. Picking up her jacket and her shoulder bag, she headed for the hotel bar and ordered a champagne cocktail.

She was sitting on a stool, chatting to the bartender, when she was approached by a man in a suit who interrupted to ask if he could buy her a drink. She spared him a glance – not bad looking, well presented, thirty-something – but she shook her head and said she was waiting for someone. He shrugged good-naturedly but stayed alongside her as he bought his own beer.

She was wondering whether to change seats when she sensed his arrival at the bar. Her spine straightened slightly and she pushed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. She wasn't sure how long he'd been watching from the doorway, but she found she was holding her breath until he reached her.

He stood on her other side from the thirty-something and slid an arm around her waist, his lips near her ear. "He bothering you?"

She saw from the corner of her eye that the suit was melting away, back to a table in the back of the bar. "I'm fine," she said, her head staying close to his. "Thank you." Her body felt warm tucked against his and she breathed in the scent of him.

His arm stayed around her for a moment longer before he let go and stepped back a little. His eyes ran the length of her and he wiped his hand over his mouth. He nodded at her drink. "You want another one of those before we go?"

Nodding, she said, "Yes please. So how are you? How's your Uncle Jake?"

"He's fine," he said. "Same as always."

He turned to the bar, standing close to her, his leg against her thigh as she sat. He signalled to the bartender and she allowed herself a look at him. He'd also gone for casual, in a dark open-necked shirt and dark jeans, a waistcoat hanging open across his shoulders. It was a typical Dempsey outfit and she liked how he looked in it. Dempsey passed her a glass and she smiled her thanks, noting that Dempsey was looking at her strangely. Had he caught her? She lifted her chin and clinked her glass against his.

"Where is it we're going to?" she asked.

"Not too far from here. It's a bar in the basement of a club. The guys like it coz it's got pool tables and a dart board."

"Is this your patch, then? When you were in the NYPD?"

"We didn't really have patches exactly. Had to go wherever we were needed. But yeah, we were based in Midtown. The squad room's only a couple of blocks away."

She asked him who'd be there and he ran through the names and the characters. There was a similar sort of mix to SI10 - a few high flyers, a few looking forward to retirement, a few social misfits, mostly diligent, a handful slightly shady, and only one Dempsey.

They finished their drinks and Dempsey guided her through the bar, his hand at the small of her back. The evening was still warm and Harry carried her jacket over her arm as they strolled the few blocks to the venue.

Dempsey led her down the stairs to the bar and pushed open the doors. She was met with a wall of smoke and heat and noise, laughter and music bleeding onto the pavement, and the sound of a dozen male voices shouting "Jimmy!" as they walked in.

A crowd of men quickly surrounded Dempsey, holding drinks out to him, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry was momentarily overwhelmed by the raucous cheers that Dempsey's arrival brought, and Dempsey was quickly absorbed by the group, leaving her alone on the edge.

She pushed the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder and looked around uncertainly. She began edging towards an empty table when she felt Dempsey grab her arm, pulling her into the centre of the group, a wide smile on his face.

"This is Harry!" he said, waving towards her. "She's my partner in England. And this is Stevie and Frankie and Alan and Dan, and this is Abe and Chipper and –"

"Wait," said Harry, laughing. "I'll never remember all these names."

One of the guys – Frankie, maybe – thrust a bottle into Harry's hand and she took a grateful swallow. Someone – Dan? – said, "You're a cop? An actual cop?"

Harry nodded and Dempsey said, "Sure she's a cop." He flung his arm around her shoulder, pointing his bottle of beer at her. "She's a terrific cop, run rings around you guys."

Dempsey's comments provoked a wave of laughter and denial. Someone grabbed hold of Dempsey arm, pulling him further into the bar, shouting that he had to come over and catch up with Smithy. Dempsey tried to resist but Harry shooed him away. This was his night out and she wasn't going to get in his way.

Harry took another sip of beer and followed in Dempsey's general direction. A group of women were gathered at the bar and she caught the eye of one of them, a woman in her forties with kind eyes and big hair. Harry wandered towards them, smiling. "Hello," she said. "I'm Harry."

The woman with the hair smiled back. "I'm Joan," she said. "You with Jimmy?"

"I'm his partner," said Harry. "Back in England. His work partner."

"You're a cop?"

Harry grinned. "For my sins."

"You're lucky to get partnered with Jimmy," said Joan. "He's one of the best."

"Took a while to get used to him," Harry replied. "But yes, I see that now."

Joan introduced Harry to the other women at the bar, who all appeared to be wives or girlfriends of police officers in Dempsey's team. Harry bought a round of beers for them and took a seat next to Joan. She said, "Looks like the guys are glad to see Dempsey again."

"Yeah," said Joan. "He left a big hole when he went. They guys missed him. He's a huge character, you know."

Harry looked across at Dempsey, who was in the middle of a large group of men, telling some stupid anecdote, making his usual wide, sweeping gestures and wearing a huge grin. The guys around him were laughing along, but Harry could see that Dempsey was in charge. She'd always resisted that about him, probably because she was used to taking the lead herself, but she recognised now that it was part of what made Dempsey so special, and her eyes softened as she looked at him.

Joan gave her a sideways glance. "Left a bunch of broken hearts behind when he left, as well."

Harry's mouth curved into a wry grin. "I can imagine. There are a few scattered across London too."

"But not yours."

"Mine? Good heavens, no. We're just colleagues. Well, friends, I suppose. But that's it."

Joan stared at her. "It's true what they say about the English, then? That you're all repressed?"

"I don't know what you mean." That wasn't strictly true. Harry could have a very good stab at what Joan meant, but that would be opening up a box she'd very deliberately taped shut.

"Look at you," said Joan. "You're beautiful, clever. No ring on your finger. No way Jimmy isn't interested in you. And if I had a man like Jimmy interested in me, I woulda caught him faster than you can say just good friends."

Harry shook her head. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. Dempsey doesn't think that way about me."

Joan let out a burst of laughter. "Sweetheart, he's been looking over here every ten seconds since you sat down. He doesn't look at me like he looks at you, that's for sure." Harry frowned. Joan looked at her. "You didn't know?"

Harry took a breath. "I think Dempsey and I want very different things," she said quietly. Then she turned towards Joan with a bright smile, waving her arm towards the group of cops. "So which one of them's yours?" she asked.

Joan pointed out a large, bearded man standing to the right of Dempsey. "His name's Adrian but everyone calls him Doc. It's because he went to college before joining the force."

Harry smiled and waved at Doc as he looked over and caught Joan's eye. Joan pointed out the other guys who were surrounding Dempsey, telling stories about their time in the department and their work with Dempsey. It was becoming clear to Harry how warmly he was regarded among his colleagues and, surprisingly, also by their girls.

The rest of the evening passed in a whirl of laughter and music. Dempsey pulled her over to play a game of pool, doubles against Joan and Doc, which they lost hopelessly, Dempsey grumbling about how being in London made him lose his touch and laughing at each wayward shot. Joan and some of the other girls got Harry dancing while Dempsey played a game of darts with the guys. Dempsey spent most of the evening talking to his former colleagues but touched base with Harry often, introducing her to people and making sure she wasn't left alone.

As the evening began to wind down, Joan came up to Harry and they stood alongside each other, backs to the bar, watching as the guys stood with their arms around each other's shoulders, singing loudly if not all that tunefully to Molly Malone.

"Been a good night," said Joan. "Been great to see Jimmy again."

Harry nodded, finishing her beer. She was feeling lightheaded and loose-limbed from the dancing and the alcohol and the company. She said, "It's lovely to see Dempsey so happy."

"I'm sure it is." Joan glanced at Harry. "Would be great if he came back for good."

Harry looked at her shoes. "Yes, I can see that," she said. "Dempsey suits New York. Maybe this trip will make him want to transfer back."

"Harry, Harry," said Joan. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Harry looked at Joan, one corner of her mouth tugging downwards. "It's up to Dempsey, isn't it. What I want's neither here nor there."

"I can't believe you're still talking that crap," said Joan, nudging Harry in the ribs. "The only way Jimmy's coming back to the NYPD is if you're coming with him."

"I can't think of much that would horrify Dempsey more," said Harry, smiling. "He'd hate the idea of someone chasing him across the Atlantic."

"What, you think you'd cramp his style?"

"Let's face it," said Harry. "He's not exactly looking for commitment."

"That what you think?" Joan's eyebrows were raised as she turned her body towards Harry's. "Listen," said Joan. "He's got it bad. Take it from one who knows."

Harry's brows knitted together. She was about to question further when Dempsey bowled over, grabbing Harry around the waist and singing the chorus of Danny Boy into her ear. Harry winced and pulled away, laughing.

Joan leaned up to give Dempsey a kiss on the cheek. "Gorgeous man," she said to him. "Take care of her." She put her arms around him for a moment then said goodbye. Doc wondered over and took her hand.

"Leave the poor guy alone," he said, pulling her towards the exit. "See you, man," he said to Dempsey. "Don't leave it so long next time."

As Doc and Joan left, Harry realised that only she and Dempsey were left in the bar. She turned to him and saw that his eyes were bleary and somewhat unfocussed. She wasn't completely sober herself but she wasn't as far gone as him. "Come on," she said, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Let's get you home."

He stared down at her. "Told you they'd love you," he said. "Everyone loves you."

Harry looked away. She said, "They miss you."

"I miss them," he said, as they meandered out of the bar and up the stairs to the pavement.

"You could come back," she said, looking around for a taxi.

He stopped still. "I aint coming back," he said. "Live in London now."

"OK. But come on," she said, urging him forwards. "Let's find you a cab back to your mum's."

"No," he said. "Gotta get you to your hotel. S'not far. We can walk."

He took her elbow and steered her towards her hotel. "Fine, fine," muttered Harry, falling into step alongside him.

It didn't take long to stumble back. They walked across the lobby, Harry insisting that Dempsey didn't need to see her up to her room, Dempsey hanging an arm around her shoulder and refusing to let her go up alone.

They stood close together in the lift, Dempsey looking down at her, smiling, picking tiny pieces of fluff from the collar of her jacket. The bell dinged quietly as the doors opened and they spilled out into the corridor, heading for her room.

Harry fished the key out of her bag and let them both in. She kicked off her sandals and flopped down onto her back on the bed – the beer and the walk had gone to her head and she was done in. Dempsey sank into the chair under the window. She turned her head so she could see him. "Would you like a coffee? Before you go?"

"That'd be great."

Harry forced herself back onto her feet and picked up the room service menu, ordering two coffees, black, and a bottle of Perrier. She perched back on the edge of the bed opposite him while she waited for the drinks. Dempsey's eyes were heavy. He said, "Was a good night, huh?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, it was. You certainly enjoyed yourself."

"I did," he chuckled quietly. "But did you though? Wanted you to." He leaned forward and traced a tiny circle on her knee. "You look great this evening, by the way. Didn't say so earlier. But you do."

There was a knock on the door. "Coffee," said Harry, escaping to the door. She brought in the drinks and handed a coffee to Dempsey.

They sat quietly, swapping stories about their evening, finishing their drinks. Dempsey was more relaxed than Harry could remember seeing him. It wasn't just the beer, although it certainly helped, it was being surrounded by his team, by people who'd known him for years and valued him for who he was. His voice was low, his accent more pronounced, washing over her in waves.

She finished her coffee and put her mug down on the bedside cabinet. Dempsey drained the contents of his and got up to put his mug alongside hers. "Guess I'd better make a move," he said. He turned round and swayed, almost falling, putting his hand onto the bed to steady himself. "Whoa there," he mumbled to himself.

Harry laughed. "You can't go travelling through the streets of New York on your own in this state," she said.

He pushed a hand through his hair. "Be fine," he said. "M'a cop."

"Stay here." He looked up at her, startled. "It's a big bed," she said. "You can sleep on top of the covers."

"I should really get back."

"Well if you insist. But it really would be simpler if you stayed."

He nodded. "Simpler. Yeah." He sat down on the edge of the bed, on the side where the bedside table was empty, and fell onto his back. She helped him kick off his shoes then lifted his legs onto the bed. By the time she got back from the bathroom he was asleep.


	5. Wednesday

**AN: Thank you again for the reviews, I hope you're still enjoying this :)**

**Chapter 5: Wednesday**

Dempsey wasn't sure what time he woke but it seemed to still be dark outside. His bladder was pressing, his stomach was swirling and his head was thumping. He sat up and belched, looking around, scratching at his armpit. For a moment he was disorientated until he remembered he was in Harry's hotel room. He looked to his side and could just make out her sleeping form. Taking a deep breath he swung his legs to the floor and got gingerly to his feet.

He found the bathroom without making too much noise and used the facilities. He filled the little tooth glass with water and drank it down, then did the same again. He spotted an open packet of aspirin next to Harry's toothbrush and swallowed a couple, along with a third glass of water. He took a quick inventory of his body and found he already felt better. Another few hours of sleep and he'd be fine.

He walked quietly back to the bedroom. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he looked down at the bed, Harry's blonde head poking out from under the covers. He slipped off his waistcoat and pulled the belt from his trousers. Would she mind if he got under the covers with her? She probably would. He wasn't up to making the most of it anyway. He pulled off his socks and took off his shirt, then eased himself back onto the bed, turning onto his side, staring at her. She was lying on her front, an arm under her pillow. He leaned towards her and dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head, then rolled onto this back and closed his eyes.

oOo

It must have been some hours later when he woke again as light was bleeding into the room around the edge of the thick drapes. He was lying on his side on top of the sheets, facing Harry, and she was underneath them, facing the same way, spooned into him, her back against his chest, her bottom snuggled into his hips.

His arm had found its way over her waist and his hand was flat against her tummy, holding her close. His nose was buried in her hair. He closed his eyes and pulled her a little closer, moving his head a little so he could press a kiss against the back of hers. He felt her wriggle back into him and let out a long breath.

It felt like heaven, despite the thickness of the quilt between them, in this moment between sleep and wakefulness. His thumb traced circles over her stomach through the quilt and his lips moved to the nape of her neck. He planted a kiss there, his lips warm against her skin, and she bent her head forwards a little, offering more of herself to him. Acting without conscious thought he pulled her into him, his knee bending upwards to slide over her thigh, his lips brushing open-mouthed kisses down the top of her spine.

He thought he heard her sigh and soften against him, but then she stiffened in his arms and his eyes snapped open. He quickly let go, rolling onto his back, and saw that she had rolled the other way, onto her stomach. He scratched absently at his bare stomach and said, "Morning, Princess."

She turned her head towards him, blinking, rubbing at her eyes. "You sound very chipper for someone who couldn't stand up straight last night."

"Iron constitution." That and the healing powers of waking up in Harriet Makepeace's bed. He pushed himself upright. "Think I'll just." He headed to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

By the time he was back she was sitting up against the headrest, the quilt draped across her lap. She was wearing some sort of pale, silky pyjama top and he kept his eyes determinedly at eye level. "You sleep OK?"

She nodded. "Luckily, I was tired enough to sleep through your deafening snores."

"Yeah, well. At least you didn't have to put up with someone's elbows in your ribs all evening."

Her eyes narrowed for a moment then she caught his innocent expression and burst out laughing. "Would you like me to call down for some breakfast? Or shall we go to the restaurant?"

"I'm not in a rush," he said. "Let's go down stairs."

"Great." She paused for a moment, looking him over, her eyes pausing longer than strictly necessary on his naked torso. "You might want to put a shirt on."

"Can probably manage that," he said.

"Well go on then. Get dressed and wait downstairs."

"I could wait here…"

"Go on. Disappear. I'll be down in a bit. Don't start without me."

Shaking his head and smiling, Dempsey shrugged back into his shirt, wincing a little at its lack of freshness, and slipped his shoes and socks on before heading down to the lobby to wait for Harry.

oOo

He was glad he'd bought himself a paper. How long could it take her to grab a shower and put on an outfit? He'd lived with Simone for a while so he ought to know better. The answer to that question could be anything from 10 minutes to over an hour.

That reminded him, he needed to touch base with Simone and time was running out. He did want to see her – wanted to see if she was doing OK – but he wasn't really looking forward to it. His mother had told him that she still lived in the same place so he didn't have any excuses.

In the end, Harry took just over 40 minutes to join him, and as he caught sight of her walking across the lobby, he had to admit she'd made good use of her time. She was in a white halter top that showed off her delicate shoulders and a pale yellow skirt that finished at the knee. She looked beautiful, as always, but also happy and carefree. He folded up the paper and got to his feet.

He offered her his arm as they walked through to the restaurant and she took it, threading her arm through and bringing her body closer to his, and he got a hint of her shampoo under his nose. She was chatting about something – the art deco design of the hotel, maybe – but he wasn't really concentrating on much apart from the pleasure of escorting Harry across the restaurant. Guiding Harry to her seat, he felt a dozen of pairs of male eyes in their direction, admiring her, envying him, and the pride that darted through him was wholly unexpected.

The hotel breakfast was very welcome after the excesses of the night before. Harry drank juice and ate grapefruit and pastries. Dempsey went for pancakes with bacon and syrup and plenty of hot coffee to wash it all down. By the time they finished eating their stomachs had settled and their heads had cleared and they were ready to face the day.

"You got any plans?" Dempsey asked Harry.

"Haven't really hit the shops yet," she said. "Can't come all this way and not go to Bloomingdales."

Dempsey smiled. "You'll be on your own for that," he said. "Not quite my thing."

Laughing, Harry said, "Don't worry, you're excused! I want to enjoy my shopping trip, I don't want you to be moaning at me all day."

"Listen," said Dempsey. "You want I should call my sister, have her come with you? She knows all the good places."

Harry thought for a moment. "That would be lovely," she said, "but won't she have to look after her daughter?"

"I can babysit Amy," said Dempsey, ignoring Harry's raised eyebrows. "Wait there, I'll call her."

He was back soon enough with details of where and when to meet his sister. As she picked up her bag to leave she said, "Will I see you later?"

Dempsey felt uncomfortable for a moment, although he didn't know why he thought Harry would care. "I need to spend an evening with Simone."

"Oh," said Harry. "I see."

"Yeah. I just called her too, gonna meet her for a drink later on."

"A drink? Is that wise?"

"Not really. But you know Simone. Doesn't really hear the word no." He glanced at her. "You wanna come too? Simone'd love to see you."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"No, she would! She liked you, last time."

"Mm. But what about you? Surely you don't want me crashing your date with your ex."

"It's not a date," he said. "And I could do with the reinforcements." He looked at her from under his lashes, a hang-dog expression on his face. Hell, it was worth a shot. It had worked on other women. "Please?"

And it seemed to work on Harry, as she gave a wry smile and shook her head and said, "OK then."

His face broke into a grin and he told her where to meet them later. "Gonna shoot off now," he said. "Need to get home and shower. Don't let Gem spend too much money."

"Kay," she said, smiling up at him as he stood. He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her cheek, surprising them both. He felt her eyes on him as he made his way out of the restaurant and into the street.

oOo

Gemma held a top up against Harry. "It's perfect for you," she said. "You should get it, he'll love it."

Harry sent a look in Gemma's direction. "I don't dress for men," she said, "and particularly not that man."

Gemma laughed. "Sure you don't! But sometimes, by accident, the things we choose to wear also happen to make us look unbelievably hot." She held the top closer under Harry's chin. "Like this."

Harry took the top and looked at it dubiously. It was wide-necked and long-sleeved, made of a clingy midnight-blue fabric covered with tiny, shiny sequins. "It doesn't look long enough," Harry said.

"It's meant to be cropped," Gemma insisted. "You've got an amazing figure. You should show it off."

Harry sighed and took the top into the changing room. She slipped the top over her head and turned in front of the mirror. There was a slim gap between the belt of her jeans and the hem of the top, revealing a flash of her smooth, flat tummy. The neck was as wide as her shoulders and her bra straps were showing – she had strapless bras at home but hadn't bought any with her. She opened the door of the changing room and raised her eyebrows at Gemma. "What do you think?"

Gemma nodded. "You have to get it. You look like dynamite."

"OK. But it's the last thing." She looked down at the pile of bags at Gemma's feet and Gemma laughed, holding up her hands in defeat.

They went to the till then began wandering back towards Harry's hotel, bags in hands and slung over shoulders. Harry asked if Gemma wanted to come back to the hotel for a coffee or a bite to eat, but Gemma said she should be getting back to pick up Amy from Dempsey. "I must admit," said Harry, "it's hard to picture Dempsey as a babysitter."

"You kidding?" said Gemma in surprise. "He's great with kids. Always used to look after his friends' children before he left for London."

"Really?"

"Sure," said Gemma. "He used to love spending time with the little ones. Used to talk about having his own one day, what he'd do different to our own dad." Gemma stopped walking and waved at the subway station on the corner. "This is where I pick up my train. You'll be OK to get to the hotel?"

"Yes, of course," said Harry. "It's only a few streets away." She bent to give Gemma a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you so much for today, I've really enjoyed it."

"Pleasure," said Gemma. She gave Harry an unreadable look. "Maybe we'll be able to do it again some time." Turning to go into the station, she sent Harry a small wave as she left. Harry walked back to her hotel, thinking hard about how her image of Dempsey was being upended by the people who knew him best.

oOo

After freshening up in her room and a quick supper in the hotel restaurant, Harry set out to find Dempsey and Simone at the bar he'd mentioned. She was a little apprehensive – Simone had been quite the handful on the other occasion they'd met – and also unaccountably anxious about how Dempsey would react to being around Simone again. He'd said it wasn't a date, but it was an evening out with his ex, and there was always the chance that she'd get there and find her presence was no longer required.

With these thoughts swirling through her head, Harry pushed through the door of the old-fashioned bar and glanced around, but there was no immediate sign of Dempsey or Simone. She bought herself a vodka and tonic and carried it towards the room at the rear, hearing Simone's shrieks of laughter before she could see her. She turned the corner and saw Dempsey and Simone sitting at a small, round table, Dempsey with a half-full pint glass in front of him and several empty glasses in front of Simone.

"Harry!" called Simone, standing up from her chair for a moment before dropping back down. "So great to see you!"

"Hello Simone," said Harry, setting her glass on the table. She looked around for a seat and Dempsey quickly stood, grabbing a chair from the next table and placing it behind Harry. "Thank you," she murmured, sending him a sympathetic glance and sitting herself down.

"Glad to see you," said Dempsey with feeling, and Harry smiled, relieved.

"Me too!" said Simone, putting her hand on Harry's arm. "You look fantastic! Can I get you a drink? Oh you've already got a drink. I haven't got a drink. Gonna go to the bar. Hey, Brooklyn, you wanna drink?"

Dempsey sighed. "No, Simone, I don't want anything else. You think you could maybe get a juice this time?"

"Juice, good idea. With a shot of vodka."

Simone got to her feet and made her way slowly towards the bar. Dempsey raised his eyebrows at Harry. "She hasn't changed much."

"No," said Harry. "Still drinking too much. But also still funny and friendly."

"Yeah I guess." Dempsey's eyes followed Simone's progress to the bar, watching as she laughed with the bartender and the guy standing next to her, a small smile on his face. "Shame how things turned out. But it has been good to catch up with her."

Harry smiled and fiddled with her glass. "Had a good day with your sister today," she said. "How was yours with Amy?"

Dempsey's face broke into a beaming grin. "She's a doll," he said. "We went to the park and watched a video and did some painting. She did a great picture of me. Really got my good side, you know?"

"Very funny." Harry watched as Simone came back to their table carrying what appeared to be a vodka and orange. She'd caught the tail-end of their conversation.

"Yeah, Amy, she's a real princess." A little of her drink spilled out of her glass as she plonked it on the table.

"She sure is," said Dempsey. "I'm just going to the john."

Simone watched as Dempsey walked away, then leaned towards Harry. In a confidential voice, she said, "I always hoped we'd have kids, you know."

"What," said Harry, "you and Dempsey?"

"Yeah. Things didn't go quite to plan. But he's gonna be a great dad. Kids love him. You're a lucky woman."

Harry smiled into her vodka. "I can't imagine Dempsey as a father with anyone, but certainly not with me."

Simone sent her a funny look. "You two still not together?"

Frowning, Harry muttered, "Why does everyone assume we're together?"

"Oh, I don't know honey. Maybe because you flew three-thousand miles to be with him? Or maybe because you light up like a candle when he looks at you?"

"I do not."

"Or maybe it's coz you just look so good together. I aint never seen him as happy as when he's with you. And when he aint with you he's talking about you."

Harry looked up to see Dempsey returning to their table. "She telling you all my secrets?"

"You aint got no secrets," Simone said, nudging him in the side as he sat down. "You're an open book."

"No way," he said. "I'm written in hieroglyphics, me."

Harry rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. "So Simone," she said. "What have you been up to since I saw you last?"

Simone leaned in. "Thought you'd never ask."

oOo

Simone could be quite good company, Harry admitted, as long as you overlooked the damage the drinking had done. She told funny stories and laughed at herself as well as giving Harry a glimpse into Dempsey's life in New York. But after an hour or so, she started to fade and Dempsey caught Harry's eye. "Time to make a move," he said, and Harry nodded.

The three of them were able to walk the short distance to Harry's hotel, Simone propped up between Harry and Dempsey protesting all the way that she was fine. They reached the revolving door and Dempsey looked at Simone, then said to Harry, "Do you mind making your own way up? Don't think I'm going to be able to get Simone back through here on my own."

Harry said, "Of course not, that makes complete sense." She squeezed Simone's arm as she said goodbye, then was pulled into a big, messy hug, Simone telling her how much she'd enjoyed her evening and hoped to see her again.

After she'd freed herself, she looked at Dempsey and said, "Night, then."

"Night, Harry." He bent to brush his lips near her ear. "Come to Ma's tomorrow morning," he said quietly. "We'll do something."

She smiled, warmth heating her from the inside. "OK." She pushed through the revolving door then stopped on the other side, watching through the glass as Dempsey slid his arm around Simone's waist and guided her towards a taxi.

oOo

"Great," said Dempsey, Simone's arm crooked around his neck, his hands holding her steady around her waist. He manoeuvred her into the bedroom, muttering that he'd hoped he'd never have to do this again, stopping when he felt his legs bump against the side of the bed. "Down you go."

He dropped her carefully onto the mattress and she landed on her back, her arm around his neck pulling him down with her. "Whoa," he said, landing next to her and rolling onto his side. He propped his head on his hand and looked down at her, exasperation warring with affection on his face.

Her eyes cleared for a moment and she gave him a small smile, tracing a finger along his eyebrow. "We used to have fun, Jimmy, didn't we?"

"We did," he said. "Too much fun, sometimes."

"No such thing." She dropped her hand to his shirt front, her fingers warm through the fabric. "I missed you. When you left."

Dempsey's eyes closed for a moment. "Mona –"

"Stay." Her eyes flicked to his lips for a moment. "Tonight. Stay with me."


	6. Thursday

**Chapter 6: Thursday**

Harry made her way to Rosa's on Thursday morning, arriving around 10.30. She rang the bell and Rosa answered, a surprised expression on her face.

"Harry!" she said. "How lovely to see you. Please, come in."

Harry smiled and followed Rosa into the kitchen, accepting the offer of a coffee with thanks. She looked around. "Is James upstairs?"

"Why no, sweetheart," said Rosa. "To be quite honest I assumed he was with you."

"Oh," said Harry. "Well, no. He isn't. I saw him last night and he said to come round here this morning."

Rosa shifted a little uncomfortably. "I'm sure he won't be long," she said. "Would you like to come into the kitchen and wait?"

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" said Harry. She was feeling unsettled by Dempsey's absence and wasn't really up to making small talk.

"Of course, dear," said Rosa. "It's the room at the end of the landing."

Harry heard Rosa retreat to the kitchen as she went up the stairs. She finished in the bathroom, taking longer than completely necessary, then made her way back along the landing towards the stairs. As she walked her eye was caught by an open door, a glimpse of a childhood bedroom beyond.

She paused, looking through the gap, and saw a baseball pennant hanging from the frame of a single bed and a bag she recognised as Dempsey's under the window. She pushed gently at the door, revealing more of Dempsey's room, and looked around. Many of his clothes were scattered around the room, shoes kicked into corners, and a bottle of aftershave was resting on an old desk. She walked towards it and picked it up, holding it under her nose, heat rising in her throat at the familiar smell. She put it quickly back down.

Her eyes scanned the desk, noting the old police department schedules and a picture of him and Rosa, seemingly as he graduated from the academy. She smiled at this young Dempsey, then noticed a small notebook resting on the edge of the desk which she recognised as the one Dempsey had been scribbling in when he was preparing for his trip. She reached out towards it before she realised what an invasion of privacy it would be. After pausing for a moment she plucked it from the desk and flicked through.

It was full of Dempsey's untidy scrawl, containing details of his visit – phone numbers, timetables, exchange rates and the like. She was about to put it back when she saw, towards the front of the book, details of the flight from London and the cost. Next to the price was the same figure doubled, as if for two flights, with a question mark next to it. In the corner of the page he'd written "H?" but it had been scored through several times. The words "guess not" were written beneath it.

Harry stared at the page, rubbing her finger over her initial, wondering what Dempsey had been thinking when he'd written those words. She was shaken from her consideration when she heard the sound of a key in the lock.

"Shit," she muttered, replacing the book and slipping out of the room.

She was on the top of the stairs when she heard Rosa call from the kitchen, "Jimmy! Get in here!"

Harry watched from the landing as Dempsey closed the door behind him. "What is it, Ma?" he said. "Only I need to get –"

Dempsey's eyes flicked up and he caught Harry looking at him. "Morning, Dempsey," she said, making her way down the stairs, her eyes running over him from head to toe. "Pleasant night, was it?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Listen, I just gotta go and…" His lips pulled into a line and nodded, then manoeuvred past her and up to his room. Harry made her way to the kitchen, the sound of Dempsey moving around above them echoing through the room.

"So," said Rosa. "You got any plans for today? Gonna be lovely out there, you know, not too hot, nice breeze. It can get humid sometimes, but today it looks fine." She handed Harry a coffee with a worried smile.

Harry took a deep breath. So it wasn't just the British who filled an awkward pause with the weather. She leaned against the kitchen worktop and sipped her coffee. "Not sure," she said.

She listened half-heartedly to Rosa's monologue on what to do on a nice day in New York, wondering at the same time why Dempsey's arrival still dressed in last night's shirt and smelling unmistakeably of Simone should make her feel so gloomy.

It wasn't long before Dempsey appeared back in the kitchen, his hair damp and his feet bare, smiling at his mother as she handed him a drink. Against her will, Harry realised that she liked him like this, casual and soft. He caught her eye and sent her a smile that she thought looked a little anxious. This was no good. It was nothing to do with her how he spent his evening. Taking a deep breath, she summoned a smile in response and felt a strange twist inside when she saw how his gaze warmed beneath it.

"Thought we could go out to the park," he said to her. "Show you where we used to hang out when we was kids."

"OK," she said, setting her coffee mug on the counter. "Let's."

"Don't you want any breakfast?" asked Rosa, clucking a little around her son. "I can get you something. You too, Harry, you eaten?"

"I'm fine," said Harry.

Dempsey rolled his eyes and planted a kiss on his mother's forehead. "We're both fine," he said. "I ate at – I got something on the way over."

"OK, OK, if you're sure. Well go on then," she said, shooing them out. "Enjoy yourselves."

The park was only a few streets away. "It's big," he said as they walked through one of the entrances. "Got its own zoo, and a museum. We used to hang out here, our little gang. Me and Gemma and Tommy, our friends from the neighbourhood, we'd bring our bikes in and ride around, trying to hide from the park wardens."

"I can imagine."

"Been years since I was here," said Dempsey. "Place is run-down a bit, but still pretty special."

He led her towards a large lake, the morning sun filtering through the trees, the sound of children playing, and she agreed that it was a lovely park. Her eye was caught by couple on the path ahead of them, a blonde woman and a dark-haired man who were laughing together like she and Dempsey often did, but they were holding hands and stopping every now and then so he could kiss her. She felt Dempsey bump into her, the back of his hand brushing against hers, and she snatched it away, confused.

"Hey," said Dempsey, pointing towards the lake. "They still have them! The little peddle boats." Harry squinted at the lake and saw an array of bright plastic pedalos. "Come on," he said. "Let's get an ice cream and take a boat out."

"Bit early for an ice cream," said Harry doubtfully.

"Live a little," grinned Dempsey, pulling her by the hand towards the ice cream hut, and she laughed and let him.

After collecting their ice creams, Harry chose a turquoise pedalo and they managed to get in without getting wet. Dempsey steered as they pedalled out towards an island in the middle of the lake, pausing as they reached a stretch of water shaded by overhanging trees.

"We used to do this as kids," he said, finishing off his cone. "We'd come in after hours, in the summer, you know, when it was dark but still warm. We'd untie a couple of the boats and peddle them over to the island and drink beers and dance. Thought we were so cool."

"I'm surprised you were never caught." They were sitting side by side and Harry glanced at him, taken aback a little by the wistful expression on his face.

"Oh, I'm sure the park wardens knew. But we weren't doing any harm, and things were easier back then."

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the lap of waves against the side of the boat. Harry could sense him next to her, could picture the expression on his face. She thought again about last night. It was like picking at an open wound, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She said, "Simone got home OK last night then?"

She heard Dempsey sigh. "Yeah. Was a struggle to get her up the stairs, but we got her back eventually."

"It was nice to see her." And it had been, although the unexpected spike of jealousy was less welcome.

He tapped his hand against his knee. "I just wish…" From the corner of her eye she saw him shake his head, and wondered what Simone made him wish for. "Never mind."

Their boat had come to a standstill and she turned the pedals a few times, moving them slowly through the water. "You stayed with her last night, then?" Harry said casually. "Did she tempt you to rekindle your relationship?"

Dempsey looked at her, but she kept her gaze forwards. "No," he said. "She offered, but no."

"She offered." Harry's voice was flat.

"I think she's lonely. And I was there, and we used to be good together. But no."

"You stayed there last night."

He scratched at the back of his neck. "She wasn't well. Couldn't just leave her." He pedalled forwards a little, steering them further around the island.

"Of course not." She bit her lip. "You're a decent man, Dempsey. It can't have been easy seeing her like that."

"Yeah, well." He sat back in the seat, gazing at the trees along the bank of the island. "It's been a few years now. It's easier than it used to be. Seeing her last night made me realise, it was never about me. Was nothing I coulda done, you know, to change things." There was a pause as he tapped his knee. "Think I'm ready to move on."

"Ha," said Harry. "You've spent the last three years 'moving on'. You haven't exactly been lonely."

Turning in his seat to look at her, he shook his head. "I mean, to see someone properly. Simone reminded me of the good parts of being in a couple. I miss that." He stared at her for a moment. "So I'm ready. But the question is, when I find the girl, will she be ready for me?"

Colour rose slowly in Harry's cheeks, then Dempsey pulled his Aviators from his pocket and slipped them on. He checked his watch. "If we peddle hard, we should be able to make it all the way around the island before we need to get the boat back."

"OK," she said, and they started to peddle in earnest, pushing the boat along its route, breathless and laughing by the time they returned to the docking station on the bank.

"What do you want to do want to do now?" Dempsey asked as they strolled away from the lake.

"I don't know. Did you say there was a zoo?"

"Sure is. Shall we go?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Why not?"

The zoo was on the far edge of the park and they wandered over. Dempsey pulled her hand through his arm and they walked slowly, side by side, like any of the dozens of couples in the park that day. Except, thought Harry, they weren't a couple. And no matter what Dempsey hinted at, she didn't think he wanted them to be a couple. And of course she didn't either so that was fine, wasn't it?

They reached the zoo and Dempsey bought the tickets, following her along the central path to where the sealions were playing in their pool. Harry's face broke out into a grin at the sight of the animals. "It's like London Zoo," she said. "I went there a few times with Mummy and Freddy when I was a child."

She could sense Dempsey looking at her. "You don't talk about your mom much," he said.

Harry leaned on the wall surrounding the sealion pool, staring down into the water. "Not much to say, really," she said. "She died when I was young. I don't have many memories."

"Yeah, but…" He was alongside her, their arms touching. "My Ma was everything growing up. I know you had Freddy, but mothers are different."

There was a pause. "It was difficult, of course, for a while," she said. "But Freddy took Mummy's death very badly. It wouldn't have helped if I'd been moping around too." Her fingers picked at the top of the wall.

"Harry." Dempsey didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry," Harry said, turning around to lean her back against the wall. "It wasn't as bad as it sounds."

"You know, you don't have to pretend with me."

"And it made me resilient," she said, as if he hadn't spoken. "So when my husband ran off with my ex-best-friend, it didn't hurt as much as it would have. The worst had already happened and nothing else would ever really get close."

Dempsey leaned sideways against the wall and tugged her around towards him. Her eyes were downcast. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face upwards, smiling gently, and she sent him a small one in return.

"You don't talk about your ex much either," he said.

"Jeremy? No. I try not to dwell on it. Not my finest hour."

"What do you mean, not your finest hour? He's the one who did the dirty with your gal pal." Dempsey was staring like she'd grown another head.

"I trusted him," she said. "I trusted her, for that matter. What does that say about my judgement?"

"It just says that the people you should've been able to rely on let you down. It's not a reflection on you."

"Isn't it?" Harry pushed away from the wall and looked around. "It did me one favour though," she said, looking at him briefly from the corner of her eye. "I learned not to be so gullible in future. Trust has to be earned, and so far nobody has earned it."

She could sense that Dempsey was looking at her, and when she glanced at him his expression was unreadable. "Nobody?"

She shook her head. "Look," she said. "It was a long time ago and I try not to think about it."

"Yeah," said Dempsey, "I guess that makes sense." Jeremy must've been a jerk of the highest order to have messed around on Harry. He was sorry Harry'd gotten hurt. Sorry that she'd lost her faith in men. But not sorry that she and Jeremey were no longer together. He pointed to a random sealion. "He remind you of anyone?"

She shook her head. He put on a fake Welsh accent and deepened his voice. "Now look here, Bonnie and Clyde," he said, and she burst out laughing. "If you haven't bought me a suspect by the time I've finished my garibaldi I won't be answerable for the consequences."

She punched him on the arm. "Idiot," she said, then pointed at a lonely sealion with long whiskers. "I think that one's Fry."

Once they'd allocated sealions to all their colleagues in SI10 – arguing for longest over which one was most like Chas – they strolled along the path through the farm area, stopping to pet the animals as they went. By the time they'd finished it was lunchtime and they got hot dogs and coffee from the stall, Harry protesting about the quality of the food and Dempsey rolling his eyes, telling her to quit moaning and eat like a New Yorker, since that was where she was at.

After lunch they continued their exploration of the zoo, past some of the more exotic specimens including some misbehaving monkeys. Dempsey caught Harry's eye. "I hope you're not gonna make any unflattering comparisons."

"If the cap fits, Dempsey." He laughed and nudged her with his elbow and she grinned, unaccountably light-hearted after their day together. By the time they'd walked through the next enclosure it was getting late and Dempsey said it would soon be locking up time.

"Shame," said Harry. "This has been lovely."

He looked at her. "Yes it has." The walked back through the zoo entrance and into the park, heading in the direction of Rosa's. Dempsey coughed and ran a thumb over his lip. "You, er." He scuffed his toe on the ground as he walked. "You wanna get some dinner? Later on?"

"Oh," said Harry. "Do you mean at your mother's?"

There was a pause. "I was thinking just us."

"OK. Yes. That would be nice." She thought she heard a whoosh of expelled breath, but when she turned her head he was looking away.

"There's some nice places in the neighbourhood. Lots of good Italians. Not as good as Ma makes, of course –"

"Of course."

"- but friendly enough, and tasty. Or we could go into the city if you want."

"I'll leave it up to you." She thought for a moment. "Should I go back and get changed?"

He looked at her then, his eyes running her up and down, and she felt heat where his eyes trailed. "No," he said. "You look fine."

They reached Rosa's and he let them into the hall. He was turning around to close the door when Rosa was upon them. "Jimmy!" she said. "I'm so glad you're back."

"Hey Ma." Dempsey took his mother's arm in his hand and pressed a kiss on her cheek. "What's up?"

"It's Uncle Jake. He's taken a turn for the worse. They just rang."

"Oh, Ma. You OK?"

"I want to go see him. Your brother's working late and your sister's got Amy. Can you take me?"

Dempsey glanced at Harry.

"Don't worry about me. You go."

"Oh no," said Rosa. "You two had plans?"

"Nothing that won't wait," said Harry, hoping that was true. "You two head off. I'll find myself a cab."

Dempsey looked torn. "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

Looking between them for a moment, Rosa said, "I'm just gonna fetch my jacket. Back in a minute."

Dempsey watched as Rosa went up the stairs, then turned to Harry. "I'm sorry about this."

Shaking her head, Harry said, "It's fine, please don't worry."

"We'll do it another time."

"I hope so." Harry reached a hand out to Dempsey's arm. "Bye for now."

Dempsey opened his mouth to speak, but looked away when Rosa called his name from upstairs. Harry turned and let herself out.

oOo

The buzzing of a telephone woke her. She stretched out an arm but the phone wasn't where she expected it. After hunting blindly for a moment her hand connected with the receiver and she put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Didn't wake you did I?"

"Dempsey?"

"Who else?"

"Who indeed?" She pushed herself up to sitting. No light was coming through the curtains. "What time is it?"

"It's late. Early, maybe. Depends which way you look at it. Sorry if I woke you."

"No, no, it's fine." She rubbed her eyes, remembering. "How is everyone? Your mother and her uncle?"

"Was touch and go for a while, but Uncle Jake's a tough old bird. They upped his meds and when we left he was snoring like Spikings."

"Good. That's good."

There was silence on the phone for a moment. "Listen," said Dempsey. "We didn't say goodnight properly."

"You woke me up to say goodnight?"

"You said I didn't wake you." Dempsey could almost feel her rolling her eyes through the phone line. "It's nearly over," he said.

"What is?"

"We have to fly back Saturday."

"Is this going anywhere, Dempsey? Only I was dreaming about Val Kilmer."

"He's the ugly one, right?" He heard her sigh down the line, and chuckled. "OK, OK. Look, I was just checking you're around tomorrow. Our last day."

"Where else would I be?"

"I'm gonna be busy during the day, shopping, cleaning, sorting out, the usual stuff. But people'll probably start coming by about four, you OK to make your own way?"

"Dempsey, what are you talking about?"

"Tomorrow!"

"But what about it?"

Now it was his turn to do an audible eye-roll. "What day is it today, Harry?"

"Today? It's Thursday. Or it was, when I went to bed. Might be Friday by now."

"Thursday the what?"

"It's hard to keep track on holiday, isn't it? July the… I think it's the third?"

"So tomorrow is…"

"Oh my god, it's the fourth of July!"

"Give the girl a coconut," Dempsey said, laughing. "So four-ish is OK for you? There'll be some of the people you met already and a lot of food and beer, and then later on there'll be fireworks. You'll love it."

She smiled into the receiver. "I think I probably will."

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You wearing any pyjamas?"

"Good night, Dempsey." She put the phone on the cradle and snuggled back under the covers, a smile playing across her face.

**AN: Thank you as ever for the reviews, it really helps motivate me to continue writing :)**


	7. Friday

**Chapter 7: Friday**

He wasn't going to check his watch again. It was definitely after four because it had been five to last time he checked and that must have been at least half an hour ago. He glanced at his watch. Four-ten.

His Ma and his Aunt were in the kitchen, making salads and buttering rolls. Uncle Herb was in the garden with Bobby and Amy and a few other family members who'd arrived early, chatting over beer. Gemma's shift was up and she was due over any minute. Tommy was out picking up the last few crates of beer. Dempsey was in his bedroom, having showered and changed into something a little smarter after his day of moving, carrying and cleaning things.

He heard sounds in the hall and pushed through the door, making his way to join the party. He grinned as he saw Doc and Jean, a few of the other guys trailing in behind them. He dropped kisses on Jean's cheeks. "You look amazing, babe. If you weren't with this idiot…"

Jean rolled her eyes while Doc clapped Dempsey on the shoulder. "We all know no one else would stand a chance against you," Doc said. "Why'd you think I got a ring on her finger before I introduced her!"

Dempsey laughed in ushered them all through the kitchen into the garden. He glanced behind him at the closed front door as he went.

One of his NYPD buddies had bought his wife and their young daughter, who immediately paired up with Amy, their giggles rising across the sound of the party. Dempsey watched them playing for a moment, a smile on his face, then turned as he heard his sister call his name.

"Jimmy! Who'd you think I bumped into on the way in?" She stood aside, revealing Harry behind her, who was smiling a little nervously.

Dempsey stared for a moment. She was wearing a dark blue, shimmery top that showed off her delicate bare shoulders and revealed a flash of her tummy, a part of her he'd never seen before. Her hair was piled on her head in some sort of messy knot and her face was sunkissed and bare. He was frozen to the spot. He'd never seen her look like that before, a killer combination of natural and innocent and so goddam sexy, and desire for her sliced right through him. After what seemed an eternity, he watched his sister nudge Harry in the ribs and whisper something to her that might have been "I told you so," a grinning splitting her face. She gave Harry a gentle shove in Dempsey's direction, then peeled away towards Bobby and the two girls.

Dempsey closed his mouth and found his voice. "Hey, Harry," he said as she joined him. "Glad you made it. Get you a drink?"

"Yes, please. What's everyone having?"

"Mostly beer, but I got some wine in case you wanted some. Or anyone. Wanted wine."

She smiled. "I'd better take the wine then." They walked over to the table stacked with bottles and paper cups and he poured her a glass of white. "This is a Dempsey tradition then, is it?" She waved her hands around the garden, taking in the growing number of people and the Stars and Stripes decorations hanging from trees and bushes in the yard.

"Yeah, I guess." They wandered towards a corner of the garden and sat alongside each other on a low wall, drinks in hand. "When dad was around, we didn't throw any parties. But afterwards, this became a bit of an annual event."

There was a pause, then Harry said, "What happened to your dad? You never talk about him."

"Well, talking about him means thinking about him, and I don't wanna waste my time doing that." Dempsey looked around him, thinking about Freddy and Rosa and Harry's lost mother and his loser father. He took a swallow from his can of beer and looked up, catching his sister's eye. "Gemma!" he called, and she came and took a seat on the other side of Harry, bringing a bowl of pretzels with her.

Harry smiled warmly at Gemma, who started pointing out the guys at the party that they'd hung out with as kids. "That's Gino," she said, pointing at a guy with dark hair and a slim tache. "He was in the same class at school as Jimmy. He was the first guy I kissed. Gay now, but I don't think that was my fault."

Harry and Dempsey laughed. Dempsey reached around the back of Harry to flick at his sister's ear. "It's only a matter of time before you turn Bobby, too. Poor guy, don't know how he's held out for so long."

"Very funny." Taking a sip from her beer, Gemma rolled her eyes at Harry. "He's such a jerk. Can't believe you have to work with him."

"It is a trial."

"Hey!" said Dempsey. "I don't have to sit and listen to you two insulting me!"

"You got a point," Gemma agreed. "Why don't you buzz off and then you won't be able to listen to us insulting you."

Dempsey stood, muttering about needing another beer anyway. He moved towards the table with the drinks and was quickly absorbed into a group of NYPD colleagues who flung arms around his shoulders and passed him drinks.

Harry watched, smiling, as Dempsey relaxed with his friends. Gemma shuffled closer, her eyes also on Dempsey. "Heard you talking about our dad," she said to Harry. "Before I came over."

"Yes. Well, I was trying to. James wasn't really joining in."

"No, he doesn't like talking about dad. Not surprising really. Dad was a jerk and Jimmy took the brunt of it."

"In what way a jerk?"

"He cleared out when Jimmy was fifteen. Jimmy wanted to quit school so he could help Ma, but he needed to graduate to go to police academy. So Ma made him carry on, but she was working all the hours so Jimmy had to look after us as well as carry on at school."

"Can't have been easy."

Gemma shrugged. "Looking back it must have been real tough on Jimmy. At the time we didn't really think about it, just let him look after us coz dad had gone and Jimmy was there."

Harry chewed her bottom lip. "I'm sure James would've wanted to look after you. He wouldn't have wanted you to feel guilty about it." And Harry knew it to be true. Dempsey would have wanted his family to be safe and secure, even if it'd meant his own teenage years were bent out of shape under the weight of it. For a moment she thought back to the Dempsey who'd arrived in London three years ago, how she would never have pictured him as a teenager willingly taking responsibility for his younger siblings and his mother. But now she knew better. Of course Dempsey would take his family obligations seriously. Of course it fitted with the Dempsey she now knew.

"Yeah," said Gemma. "Told you he was a good guy." Gemma stood and put out her hand to Harry, pulling her to her feet and leading her towards the group with Dempsey at the centre. Dempsey's eyes lit up as he caught sight of her and he threw an arm around her shoulder, finishing his anecdote, the guys around him laughing and raising their beers.

"Come on," Dempsey said. "Let's get something to eat." He led her back to the kitchen where platters of food were spread on every surface.

"Goodness," said Harry. "Are we feeding the five thousand?"

"This'll be gone before you know it." He gestured through the window to the crowd in the garden. "Locusts, the lot of em." He handed her a paper plate then started to load pizza slices and spoons of salad onto his own. "I'm telling you, get what you want now, it'll just be egg and tomato left in an hour."

Harry smiled and picked out some food of her own. "Did you make any of this?"

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I opened the pizza boxes and put them in the oven."

As they filled their plates they heard the sound of footsteps along the hallway. Dempsey looked up, a smile breaking out on his face at the sight of his brother. "Tommy!"

"Hey, bro!" Tommy dumped the crate of beer he was carrying on the table and clasped Dempsey by the shoulders. Harry could see the real affection in their greeting. He'll miss this, she thought, a small shadow passing across her eyes. Tommy pulled back and looked from Dempsey to her and back again. "What are you two doing sneaking around in here? Party's outside." He waggled his eyebrows at Dempsey. "Or maybe I shouldn't ask, huh? Don't worry guys, your secret's safe with me!" He took a beer from the crate and sauntered out to the garden, singing a chorus of Uptown Girl as he went.

Dempsey rolled his eyes at Harry. "He's a gas, right?"

"Indeed," said Harry, shifting a little awkwardly. "Hilarious."

"C'mon," said Dempsey, holding the back door open. "Let's get back out there."

The next few hours passed quickly, with plenty of food and wine, Dempsey's friends and family making her welcome and involving her in their conversations. The sun was starting to go down and the volume was starting to go up, voices and laughter as well as Springsteen on the ghetto blaster. Gemma brought out candles flickering in jam jars, setting them in groups on tables and walls, bathing the garden in light and shadows. Dempsey gave Harry's elbow a squeeze and excused himself for a moment to go to the bathroom. In a moment Joan was by her side, pulling her into a corner.

"At last!" said Joan, taking another bite of pizza. "He's been glued to your side since we got here. Thought he'd never leave you alone!"

Harry pulled a puzzled face. "Don't think I quite follow."

Laughing, Joan nudged Harry in the ribs. "So I have to know." She leaned closer and whispered into Harry's ear, "Was it good? No regrets?"

This time Harry really didn't know. Shaking her head, she said, "Was what good?"

"You and Jimmy!" Joan was swaying slightly, her words a little slurred, and Harry smiled.

"I told you," she said. "We're just friends."

Jean laughed again, but stopped abruptly. "You're not joking, are you?" Her brows drew together and she put a hand on Harry's shoulder, peering at her face. "How can you not be joking."

Giving a patient smile, Harry shrugged. "Friends. Good friends."

"Jeez, girl. Haven't you looked at him? Haven't you seen how hot he is?" A blush rose up Harry's throat and cheeks. Joan noticed and laughed, squeezing Harry's shoulder. "So you have noticed! So what's stopping you, huh? Get with the programme sweetheart!"

"I… can't." Harry took a swallow of warmish wine. "Too difficult."

"Are you serious?" Joan's gaze roamed across Harry's face, her features softening in sympathy at what she saw. "Why's it difficult? You like him, he reeeeally likes you. Why can't you just get on with it?"

Harry sighed. "It's as simple as you might think." She felt Joan's elbow nudging in her side, her eyebrows raised in enquiry. "Well, we work together for a start. Can you imagine how awkward it would be, having a fling with a colleague?

"I can imagine it if it was Jimmy."

"And then there's… well." Harry scuffed the ground with her toe, conscious of Jean's eyes still upon her. "It's not… symmetrical. What we want. We want different things. I want… well. More than he does."

"You wanna know what I think? I think you're overthinking it. Look at him. What you want. Just go and get it."

At that moment, Dempsey broke away from the group of people he was with and wandered across to Harry and Jean. "How you doing, favourite girls?" He grinned, one arm going around Jean's waist, the other sliding around Harry's. Jean leaned up and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

"Been lovely to have you back, Jimmy," she said, squeezing his arm. "But you better sort yourselves out soon or it'll be too late." She looked around for Doc and spotted him near the drinks table. "Catch you later," she said, easing herself out of Dempsey's hold and making her way over to her husband.

Dempsey eyed Harry curiously. "What was that about?"

"No idea." He held a slice of pizza out in front of her and she laughed and took a bite.

"I have to go set up the fireworks," he said, stuffing the rest of the pizza slice into his mouth. "Sun's nearly gone."

"OK," said Harry. "Off you go. I'll be fine."

He looked her up and down. "You'll always be fine," he said, then called Tommy over and together they went into the small shed at the bottom of the garden.

Rosa saw Harry standing alone and came to join her. "He's been so happy since you got here," Rosa said, nodding at the shed.

"I'm glad I came."

"You will look after him, won't you? When you're back at work?"

"Of course," said Harry, nodding. "He's my partner, I'll always look out for him."

Rosa looked at her. "No, not that." She cleared her throat. "He needs you, Harry. Not just for work. And he deserves to be happy, my Jimmy." With that, she picked up a few empty glasses and continued into the kitchen, leaving Harry alone and a little confused.

After a moment, Harry became aware of people being shuffled backwards by Dempsey and Tom, away from the bottom of the garden and closer to the house. She peered into the dusk as Dempsey buried a large box in the earth and Tom lit a match.

"Everyone ready?" yelled Dempsey as he stood to allow his brother to light the fuse. Once the spark caught, Dempsey and Tommy loped back up the garden to join the others, Tom standing alongside Rosa, Dempsey catching Harry by the waist.

Everyone turned towards the bottom of the garden, breaths held, until the first rockets went up and exploded in the air in a blast of light and noise. The guests began laughing and cheering as the display continued, fountains of bright sparks followed by trails of colour flying across the purple sky, the faces of the party-goers lit by the reflected glow. Harry felt Dempsey pulling her in front of him, his hands clasped against her bare stomach, his lips near her ear. Her own hands covered his and her head tilted back, resting on his shoulder, excitement pulsing through her.

The fireworks kept coming, whizzing and fizzing through the sky, bringing oohs and ahs from the adults at the party, shrieks and giggles from the two girls. Dempsey's arms tightened around Harry, and she heard him murmur her name in her ear. Her hands pressed against his and she felt him turn her in his arms, so she was facing him, his eyes on hers, burning into her.

She couldn't look away. Couldn't breathe. His gaze dipped to her lips then back, his hand curling beneath her ear. Her heart was tripping wildly, blood pounding, and she felt her skin prickle in anticipation. "Harry," he said again, lowering his head, but they were jostled by the crowd and broke apart.

Harry took a breath and turned back towards the fireworks, her hands stuffed into her pockets, a smile plastered on her face as the display reached its climax. Her mind was whirring as she dragged breaths into her lungs. She felt Dempsey's hand at the small of her back, hot against her skin, but as the display ended he joined in with the clapping and cheering and she was free. Her eyes darted around the garden and landed on Bobby, who was trying to gather Amy into a jacket. Harry snaked through the crowd to reach him and said, "I'm so sorry, I'm afraid I'm feeling a little under the weather. I don't want to bother anyone so I'm just going to slip off. Can you let them know?"

Not waiting for an answer, Harry snuck up the stairs and through the kitchen, along the hall and out into the street. She walked quickly towards downtown Brooklyn, in the direction of the bar she'd been to with Dempsey and Tommy, and sent up a prayer of thanks when she was able to find a taxi. "The Plaza on 44th Street," she said to the driver, then sat back in the seat and waited for the relief to come.

**AN: One more chapter for this story. Hope you are enjoying it.**


	8. Saturday

**Chapter 8: Saturday**

Dempsey rapped on the door. "Harry!" he called. "You in there? Open up!" He stood in the hotel corridor, running his hand through his hair, shifting from one foot to the other. After a moment he knocked on the door again.

He heard her calling from within, telling him to wait a moment, and he rested his palm on the door until he felt it opening, then pushed into the room and closed the door behind him, leaning against it as she stood in front of him. "Come in," Harry said drily, then turned on her heel and sat on the bed, opposite the chair. He took the hint and set himself down in the chair, leaning forward, knees apart, elbows on his thighs. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp on the side of the bed. Harry looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Can I help you?" she said. "Only it's rather late and I was about to turn in."

"You left."

"Long day. Headache."

"You left. You didn't say goodbye to Gem even, or to my mother."

"I told Bobby."

"You left me."

"I couldn't stay."

Dempsey let out a frustrated growl, pushing his fist into his palm. "I walked a dozen blocks before I could find a taxi, and even then he only picked me up if I promised a fifty-dollar tip. We are going to talk about this."

"I really don't think there's anything to talk about."

The anger left him and he sighed, leaning forward, his head bent, chewing on his lip, thinking. He looked up and stared at her. She seemed calm on the surface but he could see the way she was plucking at the quilt with her fingers, her habit when nervous. He sighed, his heart thudding in his chest. What if she really didn't think there was anything to talk about? He was close to giving up. "What do you want from me, Harry?"

She looked at him for a moment then stood abruptly and turned to walk towards the window. "Look," she said. "The big display's still going on. You can see the fireworks from Central Park."

Letting out a breath, Dempsey stood and joined her at the window. The fireworks were racing across the sky, their bangs muffled by the windows but the colours and flashes still vibrant, the distinctive smell filtering into the room. Dempsey turned and looked at Harry, who was staring fixedly through the window. He pulled his thumb across his lower lip. "It's not like you, Harry," he said, watching carefully as her body tensed. "Leaving without thanking your host."

"Oh, did you see that one," she said, nodding at the window. "It's beautiful."

"Harry," said Dempsey.

"Such a fabulous sight," Harry continued, edging closer to the window, away from Dempsey.

"Harry," he said again, reaching for her elbow but she pulled it away.

"And the way the fireworks reflect off the windows," she said. "Everything's so sparkly."

"Harry, would you stop this?" He took hold of her elbow again, firmer this time, pulling her around so she was facing him.

"Stop what?" Harry's face was clear, slightly puzzled, but there was a pulse pounding near her eyebrow that gave her away. He softened when he saw it, and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"It's hard, aint it?" he said. "This. Us."

"I don't know what you mean," she said. "There isn't an us."

"Sure about that?" His gaze roved over her face, her lips, the heightened colour in her cheeks, her clear blue eyes. He ran a finger from her ear down the side of her neck until he reached her collar bone, then dropped his hand by his side again.

"You know there isn't," she said. "There can't be."

"I know you're fighting it," said Dempsey, moving closer, his hand reaching out to her waist, settling at the small of her back, his thumb rubbing in small circles at the bare skin between top and jeans. "What I don't know is why."

"Stop that." She was looking at him almost desperately.

"Stop what?" He spread his hand flat on her back, pulling her closer. "Stop touching you, is that what you mean? Stop talking to you about how I feel about you? How you feel about me?"

"Yes! All of that! Just stop!" She covered her hands with her face but she didn't pull away and he took hold of her hands, his eyes on hers as he brought her fingers to his mouth, pressing kisses against her knuckles.

"I don't think you want me to stop, Harry," he said, mumbling the words across her hands. "I know I don't wanna stop."

Harry wrenched her hands away and whirled around to face the window once again. "You can't keep playing these games," she said. "We have to work together. I won't leave, you know."

Dempsey stared at the back of Harry's head, bewildered, already missing the warmth of her skin. "What games?" he said. "Won't leave what?" He put a tentative hand on her arm but she shrugged it off.

"This, what you want us to do," she said, still staring out of the window but waving her arm in the direction of the bed. "This holiday fling. If we did it, we'd still have to work together and it would be difficult, wouldn't it? Afterwards."

He moved closer behind, until he could smell her scent rising from the pulse point beneath her ears. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I've spent years trying to get close to you and now you're talking about a holiday fling."

He could see the way her body tensed, her spine stiffening as she stared out of the window. "I'm being honest," she said. "I'm not trying to pretend there's anything here that there isn't." She turned around to face him, a pained expression on her face. "You owe me that much at least."

"Harry," he said, "maybe it's the language barrier, but I still got no idea what you're talking about." His eyes were burning into hers. "What do you think is happening here?"

"What do I think?" she said, her chin up and her eyes hard. "I think you've finally got around to asking for what you've wanted along."

"Which is?"

"Which is a quick roll in the hay, no promises, no regrets."

Dempsey's stomach coiled. "You think that, huh? After everything, that's still what you think?"

She gave a little frustrated shake of her head. "It's not what I think, is it? It's what I know."

"What you know? Based on what, this thing you think you know?"

"Based on watching you in action for the last three years. Based on your cavalier approach to everyone and everything. Based on your total inability to commit to anything further ahead than next week. That enough for you?" It sounded wrong even as she said it but she covered her confusion with an angry scowl.

"Harry." Dempsey ran a hand through his hair. "When we first met, I thought I'd only be in London for a month or two. What did you expect me to do? It wasn't worth trying to make something of anything. I thought I'd be gone before anything could happen properly."

Harry's eyes darted around the room for a moment. "But you knew," she said. "After those first few months, you knew that you'd be here for a while. And you still carried on with your little black book full of your meaningless encounters."

Dempsey sighed. "I aint been a saint. I never pretended to be. But those women I dated, they knew the score. I never made promises to them and they never wanted me to. We had a good time together, that was all any of us wanted."

"Yes! Exactly! You just want to have a good time." Dempsey felt her finger prodding him in his shoulder. "Well that's fine for those women, but it's not for me."

Dempsey rubbed at his eyebrow. She didn't have a clue. Was he going to fill her in? "You know," he said, "when I realised I'd be sticking around, I did think about trying to make a go of something with someone, a girl I really liked, but she made it clear she wasn't interested so I let it go. Carried on playing the field for a bit, but after a while it got boring. But the girl still said no, so what was I gonna do?"

He was staring at her now, wondering how she couldn't see it. Whether, in fact, she just didn't want to see it and he was in danger of making a compete fool of himself.

"But you…" she said, trailing off, her eyes moving to a point somewhere over his shoulder. "It's not what you want. A proper relationship. With anyone, I mean." She moved away, not looking at him, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. She looked tiny, in her sparkly top and her messy hair, and beautiful, and he sat down next to her, taking her hand.

"I'm not a kid anymore," he said. "I'm not playing any games." He lifted her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles, closing his eyes for a moment. "Come on, Harry," he said. "You're leaving me hanging here. If I've got it completely wrong, tell me now, before it gets even more embarrassing."

Harry turned a little to face him. Her face was serious. "Dempsey," she said. "Who was the woman? The one who wasn't interested?"

Dempsey swallowed, the silence in the little hotel room growing around them as he fought to find the words. In the end he just shrugged, touching a finger to the side of her face, running it along her jaw. "Can't you guess?"

oOo

Harry's heart was racing. Her skin was blazing where his finger trailed along it. He was staring at her, his brown eyes liquid as they gazed into hers, waiting for her answer.

Thoughts were pinging around inside Harry's head. Images of Dempsey playing with Amy and looking after his mum, flinging his arm around the shoulders of his siblings, checking everyone was OK. Fragments of conversation, of people telling her how great Dempsey was, how reliable, how he was surely looking to settle down, twinkles in their eyes and smiles on their lips as they sent her unspoken messages about her future with him.

His eyes were still on her, sweeping across her face and her body. It made her tremble with desire, a need that she'd fought against, denied completely, until now. She'd been hurt before and wasn't looking for another entanglement with a man who couldn't be trusted. She'd always thought Dempsey was that sort of man. The sort of man who'd shower her with attention for a couple of weeks then move along when he got bored. And the work thing wouldn't go away. They'd be left to work together in some sort of awkward limbo in the lengthy aftermath.

She thought about the girl who hadn't been interested. "You can't mean me," she said.

"Can't I?" His hand reached across her to cup her jaw, his thumb rubbing tiny circles, sending a frisson through her. He was so close now, leaning into her space, and she could feel his breath on her face, could see the heat pouring from his gaze. "It's you, Harry. It's been you for… Well." His lips pulled into a wry smile. "For a long time."

Harry's heart began to race, her pulse pounding as she stared at those lips. His hand slid from her jaw to behind her ear, into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he pulled her closer. Time skidded to a halt as he reached her, his lips touching hers, the faintest brush of skin against skin, and she gasped as his tongue made contact, sliding into her mouth as her lips parted to admit him.

Nothing else mattered but his mouth against hers, the collision of their tongues, his hand in her hair. Her own hands now needed the touch of his skin and she reached up to curl her fingers into his shoulder, moving them restlessly towards the open neck of his shirt. She reached his flesh, ran her finger down his neck to the base of his throat, and he wrenched his mouth away, leaving her blinking and breathless.

"OK," he said, giving a shaky laugh as he dragged in his own breaths, taking her hands and holding them in her lap. "Jesus. Harry." He swallowed. "That was…"

"Yes." He was giving her time, she knew. Giving her time to back out, change her mind. But kissing him had felt like coming home and she didn't want to stop. She angled her body into his and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, her hand pushing into the hair at his nape, pulling him towards her.

This time when their lips met there was no holding back. Without conscious thought Harry found herself leaning backwards, her shoulders meeting the mattress as Dempsey eased above her, his lips seeking the skin at her throat, finding the sensitive dip at her collarbone. Her eyes slid closed as his teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, her fingers gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Heat built at her core and she felt Dempsey's hand skim down her torso to her hip, curling around her thigh and urging her legs up on to the bed, where his own quickly followed. They lay facing each other, her leg bent at the knee and pressing onto Dempsey's hip, his hands moving restlessly through her hair, along her back. The feel of their bodies pressing so intimately sent flames through her, Dempsey's lips returning to hers, their tongues duelling, leaving her mindless with need.

Dempsey rolled her onto her back, staring down at her, eyes hungry, breath laboured, a surprised smile playing across his lips. "You want this," he said, his gaze flicking across her face, her flushed skin, the tautness of her body. He dipped his head to drop a gentle kiss on mouth, his hand moving to the hem of her top, smoothing across her tummy, easing beneath the fabric.

"This outfit's been driving me mad all night," he growled, his gaze heavy, watching his hand as it pushed slowly up her ribcage, revealing her pale skin as it went. "You can't be wearing anything under here."

Harry swallowed. "You've been thinking about my clothes?"

"Babe, I'm always thinking about your clothes. What's under your clothes." His eyes were intent, focused closely on her body beneath his hand, his pupils wide. The sight of him looking at her was almost unbearable, piercing her with desire, and she was acutely conscious that his fingertips were dangerously close to their target.

A moment later they brushed the curve at the base of her breast and he groaned, burying his face in the curve of her neck. "Jesus, Harry." His voice was low, rumbling through her, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, pressing kisses into his throat.

He raised his head, his hands at the hem of her top. Her eyes were on his as he pulled the top upwards, over her head, revealing her to his heated gaze. "Perfect," he murmured, "beautiful." He cupped her breast in his palm, thumbing across the peak, before dipping his head and taking it in his mouth, pulling it taut with his tongue and leaving her gasping.

Her fingers dug into his shoulder, frustrated by the barrier of his clothing, and slid to his waist to pull his shirt free. She smoothed her palms along his back, savouring the feel of his hot skin beneath her fingertips. He shrugged the shirt over his head and she stared at his torso, bringing her hands to his chest and flicking at his nipple with a fingernail. He gave a sharp intake of breath and she smiled and did it again, before he shook his head and grabbed hold of her hand. "Can't do that, babe," he said, kissing her fingers. "Only got so much control."

She pouted up at him and he chuckled for a moment, until she shifted a little and brought their hips into alignment. Groaning, he said, "What are you doing to me?"

"I rather hoped you'd know," she said, curling an arm around his neck and bringing his head down to hers.

Their lips met and Dempsey gathered her to him, his arm around her shoulders, his body curved above hers. Harry ceased to think, her senses overwhelmed by his masculine strength. He took them forward together, ensuring at every step that she was with him, as aroused as he was, and when he entered her she moaned his name, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she clenched, taut, dissolving into a pool of white hot pleasure, holding him tight until he followed, his arms around her and her name on his lips.

As their heartbeats slowed, Dempsey rolled onto his back and pulled Harry against his chest, his lips against her temple, awkwardly reaching with one hand to pull the quilt across her. She felt safe in his embrace, the sound of his heartbeat in her ear, and she softened into him, no longer feeling the instinct to resist.

She turned sleepy eyes in the direction of the window. "Fireworks have finished," she said, looking at the clear, dark sky.

"You kidding me?" mumbled Dempsey, tightening his arms around her. "They've only just begun."

**~The End~**

**AN: I hope you enjoyed this :) Thank you so much for your kind words along the way, it always means so much. Lou x**


End file.
